


Everything That Happens From Now On

by trudes193



Category: Red Eye (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Child Character, Cynthia Is Married, Dad Spy, Deaf Character, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Joe Still Married to wife, Lisa And Jackson Are Married, Lots of OC's, Making Love, Original Character(s), POV Child, Sorrow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-05-02 12:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14545251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trudes193/pseuds/trudes193
Summary: This is an AU Red Eye fan fiction of the movie. A bitter sweet marriage, entangled in lies, deceit, secrets, and heartbreak. Will they and their family be able to recover and grow stronger, from one devastating night of corruption, danger, and betrayal that lies ahead, or will this tear them and their family further apart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Authors note: This is my very first fan fiction, so I am very sorry if this sounds like an 11 year has written it I have dyslexia, which makes it hard to write what is in my head into written word. 
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> The title is from the song by Bon Iver Re: Stacks 
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> I’ve been wanting to post this for ages, have been too scared to because I keep thinking that is isn’t as good as those you have all written, which inspired me to write my own. I also want to dedicate this to several writers which have inspired me as well. All your stories are brilliant furthermore absolutely amazingly written, and I wish I were as good as you were.
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> So here, we go, this idea came to me from a good friend of mine, and from my little cousins are the inspirations of their children. This is an AU version of Red Eye whereby Jackson and Lisa are married with children, it has lots of twists and turns and people may not seem to be who they claim they are it is quite upsetting at times and does have some dark themes and some sexual and mature themes in later chapters. 
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> I hope you enjoy my story, as all comments are always very much appreciated. I know I am not the greatest writer in the world, many complexities, and my story is far too detailed, and the chapters are far too long. I find writing is good therapy for me, as it is allowing me to let out many deep-rooted feelings I have, and cannot express publicly myself. 
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> Before I forget, I do not own anything, apart from my OC’s.

Everything That Happens From Now On

 

In the back of a dimly lit taxi, sitting on a worn uncomfortable leather seat, in the company of shadows dancing across his features obscuring most of him and in a somber mood upon deep reflection. Be situated a long dark haired man, still when the cab finally passes a lighted area you notice it's neatly combed, Jackson Rippner a man that likes to look his best. With intelligent piercing blue eyes, that in the darkness seem to shine brightly like a 3 million candle torch, around his jaw the makings of 2 day stubble, he is dressed smartly and immaculately in a dark blue tailored well-cut suit, Crisp sea green button-up shirt with the top button undone so you can see a white undershirt accompanies it. Which he looks very comfortable in, almost as if it’s similar to a second skin to him, however it does give him an additional casual elegance and really enhance to his exquisitely handsomeness, he looks to be in his early thirties. You get the impression from him, that he is some kind of businessperson or CEO, that by his intense presence in everything he does, it makes him own any room or situation he enters. 

 

With him, also masked somewhat by the dim lighting is Lisa a beautiful, stunning petite woman in such a way that the man, she is laying against could not help but admire with an elegance about her that requires respect. She has shoulder length thick auburn hair; her facial features are delicate and quite feminine, and clear skin, dotted by the occasional beauty mark, and a full mouth with laughter lines gracefully creasing around her soft cheeks. Wearing a just barely visible exquisitely graceful light pink silk top, with a blue flowing skirt that stops above her knees to show long slender lean legs, and matching dark blue jacket covering it, the style is impeccably simple, yet classy. She is thin, but not rail thin as is the trend of the day, appearing to be quite fit and athletic, she is naturally beautiful and she does not need to cake on a thousand pounds of Revlon to be attractive. They are holding hands with their fingers intertwined, moreover both of them are looking exhausted and drained. 

 

Lisa’s head is lying comfortably, against the man’s expensive sea green shirted chest her eyes closed while her breathing is nice and easy, she nuzzles her head into his chest, pressing her forehead to the side of his chest cling onto him with her arm around his waist and the curves of his body. Through their nearness she is able to feel his warmth and smell the aroma of the luxurious and elusive aftershave he’s wearing and his natural raw organic smell mingle like an effortless aura he possesses that is merely for her. His personification that she would like to savor and encapsulate the emotions and feelings, it gives her, of him as if she'd yearns for it so much, in spite of that at the same time, in some strange way, she is also afraid of this too. However, thinking is undyingly a forbidden occurrence this early in the morning, and she is more than contented at the moment with herself, in the midst of the warmth, her head resting comfortably and cushioned against his chest, while his arm draped heavily over her side listening to the air filling in his lungs as he breathes.

 

Her light breath tickles the skin of his chest, even through his shirt, which coincidently feels as though it is too thin now, excessively too thin, and she can feel herself making those happy little noises, even as she feels as though she could stay there forever, being hugged by this man beside her. At the same time, her left breast is softly pressing aligned with his ribs, whilst her left thigh is touching his right thigh, along with their hips causing abrasion in contrast to the material both of them are wearing like the gentlest of electrical currents passing between her body and his. At this moment, they give the impression of being contented with this level of physical contact that is a completely acceptable act, which does not have to comprise of any sexual suggestion to it at all, they are merely just seeking comfort, warmth, and security from their closeness to each other. 

 

When some loose strands of her hair have fallen ungracefully across her right cheek when she moves her head slightly, concealing her closed eyes, and she sighs somewhat in contentment, drifting into a peaceful light doze, not even bothering with the loose hairs tickling her cheek. Furthermore, her right hand unconsciously slides up to his chest, and with her small nimble piano fingers, she strokes him lightly, absentmindedly drawing small circles there as they follow the wrinkles of his shirt, and she can sense how hot his skin is, how lean, defined, and fine-toned the muscles are in the side of his torso. While her fingers, with an affectionate, expressive, finely tuned delicacy, and the dexterously of someone who is on familiar terms with the body competently, examining the composition of his muscles. 

 

Watching his wife with drowsy eyes, and feeling overwhelmed with everything, Jackson places a small but gentle kiss on her forehead, longing that he could fall asleep with her; while letting the fine coarse coppery hairs of the stubble on his chin, scrape against her delicate scalp. At the same time, her thick, tangle of curls pleasantly are, lightly tickling his nose as he breathes in the flowery fragrance of her shampoo that is also causing his nose to itch in the midst of her hair. He wants to forget everything, trying so desperately to stop his mind from drifting as she touches each of his sensitive spots, causing the familiar, but destabilizing and delicious effects of physical and emotional memories and thoughts of her, which produces both pleasure and pain. 

 

He mutters into her hair in a soft, reassuring, and comforting way while letting his soft lips brush against the strands as they dance elegantly across her hair, whispering in a soothing tone as though he is effortlessly, consoling a small sleeping child in the midst of a dream. Instead, he is whispering sweet nothings, while he attentively reaches out, and with his free pale and lean, but at the same time strong hand without thinking and together with a slight intake of breath. Once again, glancing at his expensive platinum Rolex wristwatch, that is real and definitely not a fake or a knockoff purchased on a street corner. Illuminating dazzlingly in the dark, where it is now exposed a little from its hiding place under the cuff of his blue suit jacket, counting down every precious minutes they have like this. The smooth metal of his silver wedding band shining brightly in the synthetic amber glow of darkness from the streetlights, dotted along the street a small but significant symbol of their unity. 

 

Faintly, delicately, and tenderly, in the company of a small but perfectly placed affectionate smile as well as a tender lover’s touch, he brushes the loose soft golden-brown strands away from her face to tuck the auburn strand of her hair behind her ear gently letting him see her face once more. At that moment, he moves his head to the side slightly, it causes his dark brown fringe to fall into his eyes, hiding his intense eyes, and causing a small tickle upon his cheeks, however he ignores it and carries on enjoying the ambiance his caress generates in him touching her within the indistinguishable manner in return.

 

He suddenly shifts his crystalline eyes and steals a glance at the cabs window just beside them, watching their dim reflection in the glass, even as drizzling rain, fat drops of rain hit the glass more insistently until a veritable downpour is thrashing hard against it soaking the earth outside their tiny, enclosed space. Generally, for Lisa and himself being in a car during a rainstorm always holds a relaxed, comfortable, and warm sort of feeling. 

 

To anyone looking inside in, they look like an ordinary young couple, holding hands, cuddling each other, just on their way back to home from a weekend break, much like the couples you see in movies, and that can be said in some ways. From the look in his eyes, you can notice how there is definitely chemistry, undying affection between them, but all is not perfect, and also there seems to be some tension and a certain amount of underlying sadness too between the two of them. However, they are far from ordinary, neither one of them know how tonight is going to change their lives forever. 

 

When the fingers of his other hand, that were resting on her upper arm lightly trails down the curve of her face, sliding with care down her arm, stroking her arm soothingly. She tenses a little and recoils her breathing hitching a bit as well as her face looks troubled, before shrugging him away as if in fright trying to pull her other hand out of his grip. His hand hovers in the air for a moment, before he drops it softly to his side carefully making sure it is not near her enough to scare her. 

 

Afterwards though, when the moment of freezing panic passes, she appears to start subtly relaxing against him again enjoying the warmth of his chest, he feels as though his heart aches so much, it feels as though it is going to split in two any minute in the overwhelming desire and sorrow, that seeing her like this does to him. He then reaches up again; he manages to continue where he left off. Even while he is watching her with sorrowful, despondent, and haunting eyes, taking in her now returned easy breathing, and he yawns quietly as he is just as exhausted himself. At that moment she simultaneously does too, and shifts even closer to him like a child’s comforting Teddy bear, or a blanky, demonstrating just how obviously weary and emotionally drained they are both from the day’s events. 

 

The driver a man who was a lively perpetually chatty black guy when they first entered the cab when they automatically instructed the cab-driver to drop them off at the large infrastructure of the airport, with a shaved head, medium build, and without doubt has a gun concealed under his seat as well as the glove box. Is now unquestionably in necessitate of stress management skills and appears to be 10 second from an absolute WMD chemical meltdown, simply easier to find than the real things that the government obviously knew were hiding. So lock on target, and hold your positions, this could blow any second. He is frustrated, exasperated and keeps yelling at the other drivers who are cutting him up as he speeds up, attempting to get to the airport on time, when the couple only has 10 minutes until check in. 

 

The background noise of the windscreen wipers set to maximum is not helping the matter, and they are still laboring to clear the deluge from his vision, sounding more like a squeegee rather than their intended use, making a horrendous squeaking noise, as the rubber of wiper passes across the window.

 

Jackson is, sitting in the back of the cab and still holding a dozing Lisa in his arms, furrowing his brow, giving the impression he is aggravated along with the small but noticeable tremor in the muscle of his left cheek and he squeezes the woman’s hand to stop himself. Wanting so badly to holler at the driver, for being of no use and quite frankly is getting on his last nerve. So instead, he keeps a stoic professional mask on his face, and glares at him up at the rearview mirror from time to time letting his eyes say it all, as he’s briefly imagining the best way to kill him. Dangling and swinging as if it is a metronome, indicating the tempo and aural of the man’s outburst from the windscreen mirror, hangs a cheap plastic imitation gold cross, decorated with cheap looking beads. This rather seems ironic why he has it there, since his screaming profanities left right and center. When he is just about to give him another one of his famous death stares, barely at that moment, his cell phone starts to vibrate softly against his hip much to his surprise. 

 

Without looking, and still staring sharp daggers at the drivers head, letting his intense blue eyes do all the work in a state of quiet, seething frustration, his hand unhooks it carefully from the expensive Italian black leather belt it’s attached to. Flipping it open in one effortless practiced flick of his thumb, he checks the flashing I.D, rolling his eyes when he brings the phone up to his face remembering what he told them “I told you not to call me before-”. Before he answers and lets out an exasperated sigh…never mind, he reasons knowing he isn’t expecting any calls at the moment, seeing that he’s too tired and has far more important things to worry about, like the woman next to him to talk to anyone at the moment. As soon as he answers though, it sounds in the same way as he is dispassionate, but it is simply for the reason that he is tired. Almost immediately, he is reminded of the importance of the call in a few concise words from the voice on the other end of the line, and the uninterested, exhausted, exasperated, and his slightly dissatisfied tone instantly vanishes, and is rapidly replaced with his voice softening and then subtly sighing. He commences, on bombarding the person on the other end of the phone, with specifically articulated questions. The man has clearly deals with these kinds of calls on a regular basis; even listening carefully. He moves his right arm a little, brushing her forehead slightly with the material of his jacket, at the same time as he is talking softly, and then being deft, so not to wake the sleeping woman beside him, he begins to smooth her hair soothingly. Delicately playing with the ends, between his long thin fingers, and he lightly twirls a strand of curl around his index finger while watching her out of his peripheral vision. 

 

Lisa leans into him even closer, enjoying the feeling he is giving her, just from that one action. Nuzzling into his chest, and mumbling incoherently, he can hear some of what she is saying something about shoes being in the toaster, making him smile as he tries to stay on the conversation and not drifting his attention to the woman in his arms while his fingers are still tangled in her hair.

 

Simultaneously out of the blue Lisa’s cell phone rings in her bag, jerking her violently awake with its ferocious vibrating, she stirs opening her big olive limpid eyes, the man next to her being nudged slightly too from the action, and she starts mumbling curses incoherently under her breathe. Her fingers gently brushes his, before running a hand groggily through her disheveled hair slowly, rubbing the sleepiness away, as she thinks of being torn so abruptly from his arms, and suddenly the cab felt cold and uncomfortable again. Even as she’s delving down into the depths of her leather bag, her hand passes through everything you’d expect a mother to have and more, but the kitchen sink. When she reaches her hand onto the cold metal can of pepper spray, she automatically picks up the just as cold, cell phone next to it in her palm and almost drops it because of the coldness, from the bottom. Bringing the screen to her eye line, when she looks down, and checks the blue illumination glow flashing, the large, black bold lettering of the I.D, blinking and vibrating with determination in front of her eyes, she finds out it’s her father. 

 

She on top of that, when she opens up the phone, notices in a tiny box at the bottom, that there are at least five missed calls and she smiles wearily. Slightly aware he’s probably ringing updating her like his a rolling news bulletin with things she already knows which are being repeated and each time he does sounding more and more dramatic than the updates really is. On the other hand, she is not expecting an unexpected development, which will interrupt the broadcast and state, whether the terror alert in Florida area, has turned to red or is still ticking along nicely on amber. She then clears that little thought from her mind, and concentrates contemplating on the subject of what she ought to tell him, her mind meaning it a consolation, reminding her that in a little while, they will be getting their normal life back, and decides to go with the almost-truth and after reassuring him, that everything was all right. Even though all she feels, is never-ending grief, however she can tell him everything later, refraining herself from voicing these thoughts, she then unexpectedly feels her thumb pressing the Talk button her heart almost spilling out at the words she wants to say already. 

 

Whilst the man has intuitively moved away slightly, sensing that he needs to give her some space and knowing specifically who is on the other end of the line, but she can even now feel his warmth. 

 

Jackson is still talking on his phone only a little louder now, as the brunette haired woman’s deep big green eyes takes fleeting look over at him. He turns too, suddenly feeling her eyes on him, with green eyes, and blue eyes naturally meeting each other in that instinctively possessive way, which occurs when you have been a couple for an extensive amount of time. They mutually in an natural unison exchange, apologetic smiles afterwards both of them look away, carrying on in the midst of their phone conversations, his whole body is still trembling from both her nearness and the warmth she is producing, and he’s having trouble keeping his mind on the conversation. 

 

Catching a momentary look over again at her dark haired, blue-eyed husband, her loving friend, lover, and soul mate of 8 years, who from the look of him, has a little smile on his face even though she knows he’s pissed with the driver, one of the many smiles she loves from him. While he discusses on the phone, she pretends she is not trying to eavesdrop in on the conversation his having, and only catching one or two words. Presuming that it’s either his manager or an associate of his team, and subsequently shifts her gaze once more out of the window and concentrates instead absent-mindedly at the heavy rain pouring outside. Along with the flickering streetlights, that illuminate the raindrops in an attempt to drop heavily on the windows reflecting the light and looking like teardrops, ones that she would like to shed out her frustrations herself. Being wholeheartedly thankful that the weather held for this morning, and the downpour along with the freakish storm had only started when they got into the cab, she concentrates on the road trying to pay attention to all too familiar voice you catch her name Lisa. 

 

While her father carries on with his uncompromising talking, and she continues to nod along answering automatically with the standard yes and no replies, whilst lightly chuckling back. She thinks about her father Joe Reisert, the ever-perturbing obsessive protective father, and grandfather, even at the age of 34, and married for 8 years, with three children, he is fretful about her trying his hardest, not to sound too frantic every time he rings her on the phone. Even though they only live two doors down, and visits them every day, he likes to makes a lot of calls…checking in at work and with his adult children and young grandchildren, knowing she is the first on his speed dial. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her father, she genuinely does, except he just worries a little too much about them sometimes It's worse now that he is retired, he has more time to worry about her, and she always fears that one day his going to give himself a heart attack. He always worries so much about her, too much in fact, and she never lets him in, she hates his worrying because it makes her seem weak and she refuses to think of herself as weak, as if she is someone for him to be concerned for. 

 

She has always prided in herself and well known for being an independent, strong, practical, patient, no-nonsense, and straight-to-the-point kind of woman, full-time freelance manager, and a mother of three wonderful but energetic children. Who is exceedingly good at her job and being a mother, she throws herself into her work enthusiastically, and does not take any shit from anybody well that is unless; of course, these are the offensive, malicious, hypocritical customers with the most idiosyncratic and astonishing requests and complaints you would never believe. At the Lux Atlantic Hotel, an upscale, high-class hotel, that is located, near the waterfront in Miami and has beautiful views of the ocean. Even then, there are limits, she likes to imagine that she can tell them to stick their comments on the comment card and stick them up their asses, except corporate have a different initiative to hers that is tending to their every need and encourage them more.

 

“Hey dad, how are you and the girls tonight?” She enquires with an enormous smile on her face, which could brighten up the whole east coast. She has missed them the entire weekend whilst they were away, and she has been looking forward to getting back to Miami, along with going to the beach with them. 

 

Once they are off the forthcoming flight, unpacked, rested for all but 5 minutes, and had some coffee and pancakes made by the girls, who are completely covered in the mixture. As she and Jackson have a rare day off, which she knows half of it will be used to clean the kitchen, and their daughters. Her mind then is questioning what the house looks like already, it could be either 2 options a scene from a disaster movie, or one of those documentaries on TV that shows how some people leave their houses and apartments and are in desperate need to be industrially cleaned. That she guesses in this case it is probably a mixture of both. Even as she smiles and asks the obvious and inevitable question, any mother will ask, even if their children are perfect little angels, which cannot be possible. 

 

“They didn’t cause you too much trouble did they?” Lisa smiles as she asks the slightly, quiet, chipper voice on the other end of the phone. She knows her husband is listening and he can hear what the voice through the phones saying, because he is also wondering the same question in his mind, and is equally, as eager as her to see them again.

 

In the early quiet and peaceful hours and the warm and humid climes of suburban Miami Florida, Joe Reisert an older man with a craggy face in the company of more frown lines than smile lines, looking as though his in needs of sleep. He stands by a white door in the ivory decorated walls of the upstairs hallway very still and cautiously, so not to wake his grandchildren from their much-needed sleep, while underneath one of his arms holding a cream woven wooden basket in his arms, and the other holding the plastic block of the phone. Appreciatively with fatherly concern, he smiles at the sound of his daughter’s voice as he talks to her, causing the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth to become more prominent. Although you cannot be sure as dark brown and whiskers of white facial hair, obstruct them, while under his glasses with dark brown knowing intelligent eyes shine proudly.

 

“No Sweetie they’ve been absolutely fine.” He says with a sigh and a slight little gruff sounding laugh with his deep intonation, she is continuously asking him that question and every time it makes him smile. Of course, when it comes to Lisa Rippner formally known as and will always be a Reisert is a complicated and unusual daughter, mother, and wife, on the contrary she never falters, especially when answering his phone calls.

 

When he opens the door quietly, letting in some of the harsh glaring hallway light, flood into the relaxed room, and he peeks at his youngest granddaughter hoping he hasn’t woken her, that smile on his face grows wider, which additionally includes a look of relief in his eyes. The little girl who is thankfully, still sound asleep curled up in an adorable little ball in her soft and comfortable bed, under the sweet pastel butterfly duvet set, her little wrinkled nose and closed eyes barely visible, he knows she is clutching her white bunny, chewing and sucking on her bunny ears. At the same time, he can hear her in the quietness and stillness of the room, her little mumblings to herself, so much like her mother. She looks similar to a small little baby mouse curled up in straw and other materials and seeking warms during the hibernating months of the blistering cold winter curled up next to her doing the same is a tiny little ginger striped kitten called Marmalade her companion in her own little secret world.

 

As he carefully places a small gentle kiss on her, soft cheek and caresses her long silky, shiny auburn curls smiling, smelling the sweet mixture of the talc and shampoo combined into a wonderful scent that causes him to reflect back to his daughter at that age. 

 

He wonders if she enjoyed her outing to the park with him and her sisters this afternoon, as it was such a beautiful day outside and she looked so contented playing with her friend quietly, her interactions so careful and caring. He knows she has missed them incredibly this weekend, and probably would preferably want her mommy and daddy right now as a substitute of grandpa. Nevertheless, they will be coming home soon, where she will be playing on the beach with her older sisters and with a bit of luck, helping them saturate daddy in the sea.

 

The room is painted in a light pastel yellow, the wall with the bed painted with butterflies fluttering in a small group in cream, light green, light blue and light pink. While beautifully decorated butterflies suspend from the ceiling are spiraling around as their wings flutter causing a slight whooshing sound and a slight cooling breeze from the window being opened a little. Underneath them is her sheeted tent, which is made of all differently multicolored decorated designed layered sheets that has a small mattress inside with sides so that she will not roll out onto the floor at some point during the night. Even as her night light of twinkling stars are floating across the walls producing a dreamy ambiance, you could describe it as a little girl’s dream bedroom. He huskily whispers quietly into the receiver, trying his hardest not to wake the sleeping child occupying the bed. He can practically see Lisa smiling as she spoke, her large emerald eyes lighting up and her smile curling her lips up. “They’re fine honey; they’re fast asleep at the moment. And I’m fine honey, just pottering around while it’s quiet.” 

 

He takes a cautious seat on the end of the little girl’s bed the duvet providing the soft cushioning his needs for a soft landing, as he is organizing through the laundry and putting the tiny clothing into piles delicately next to him to put away. He is struggling not to pry, not to sound too overly protective and worried, he knows the constant overprotective father thing he has going on has always annoyed her even in high school. Nevertheless, can she actually blame him she is his only daughter after all, and he knows Jackson and her will be the same with their daughters it was only natural. As far as he is concerned, things were never simple; at least not anymore, the family has been through so much, they have been emotionally and physically distressed and he just wants to see them happy, but life does not always deal you a full house and let you walk away with the poker chips. 

 

He is still stunned by the amount that she has accomplished at her age, but another part of him is more stunned at how things have turned out for her. Working sometimes-long hours when she is needed, being married for 8 years and a fantastic mother to three little girls, which of course limits socializing, and alone time with her husband to enjoy one another’s company, and now this.

 

“Are you both okay?” He asks trying not to sound worried, turning to take another quick peek at his little granddaughter still in her peaceful slumber, before turning his attention back to his little girl. Sure to say, the ever so worried father Joe Reisert has little control over helping his daughter and son in law, but he always continues to hope that one day, their lives will be simple again, as it was before. 

Likewise, Joe Reisert has no idea how right he is to worry about his daughter, son in-law and grandchildren.


	2. Chapter 2

Lisa continues to Stare out the window, with a small smile playing on her lips, her eyes are tired heavy lidded, and is absolutely unfocused on the external stimuli, not really paying attention to what is going on outside. Instead, she is just thankful her little girls are all right, and not causing her father a great deal trouble tonight about staying up, and wanting mommy and daddy. She thought they would be wide-awake, making trouble and being over excited making them be too exhausted to go to the beach tomorrow, and naturally ends up glimpsing over at Jackson and follows him with her eyes smiling. As he is talking on the cell phone in his standard secret code way, staring out of the window while his short sharp nails are scratching at his 2-day-old stubble, along with his warm familiar chuckle.

Her phone beeps loudly in her ear, and indicates in an annoying aggressive tone, that there is another call on the line, making her wonder who is calling her at this time, only when she looks at the ID she notices it's her worst nightmare. She apologizes to her father sympathetically, and presses the right button that puts him on hold; subsequently she answers the other call cheerfully as its Cynthia. Cynthia her best friend, faithful head desk clerk with her ever-present tablet tucked under her arm, and second in command. With her is probably with Selena the new trainee, who is doing her first weekend of nights as lead receptionist, after having the not so dramatic ordeal of doing day shifts. 

Cynthia can be a little silly, who can be semi-hysterical, and is her best friend from work, puffing as Lisa presumes she and the young trainee are running along the marble flooring in a rush through the hotel lobby. At the same time as she is asking about the trip, furthermore putting herself into a long-spun tale of run-on sentences and tangents on how the computer system is slow tonight and has had a virus for the last few days, also Selena is having trouble with the Taylors. Flustered as well as unnerved by the obnoxious couple with their usual intimidation, threats to corporate, and endless complaining techniques, that has been perfected over the many years of staying at the hotel, and always getting their own way. 

Selena as a junior receptionist with so much to learn, has managed to let the panic get to her, and has entered her own password incorrectly three times, then lock Cynthia's usual terminal via the old three-strikes-and-you're-out routine blocking further interaction with the computer until it is acknowledged. Moreover, when Cynthia goes to use the alternate terminal, while they are waiting for Support to unlock the locked terminal affected using a single password that is used for all low security applications, which will require Seleena to re-familiarize herself with the company’s password policy. 

Only the entire system either has suffered a mini-crash or does what many Windows-based, cut-to-fit retail systems are as fond of doing as the result of the execution of single or multiple machine instructions, it should be attempting to offer safe mode while it tries to recover from the error and continue execution instead of crashing. This is not the case for their system, what usually happens, especially during a rush, or during dealings with the most obnoxious couple ever. The processor decides it is going to do a perfect impersonation of molasses attempting to flow uphill in the dead of winter leading to bugs, universal slow performance, and at worst case, takeovers by viruses and malicious software.

Even as she is hearing this, Lisa rolls her eyes subtly and smiles confidently, no problem is too big, and some of the higher ups were really noticing her uncanny ability to make things happen, she has always had the ability to smile in the face of adversity, and today was no exception. 

Sometimes though, she feels that it would be nice to have everyone do things for her, since that is all she did in her profession, being a people-pleaser one of the 'people with special needs' or what Cynthia says ‘Why don’t all the disgruntle customer’s just line up, and kick me like assholes until you’re done with your complaint’. She being the one who had to deal with all their bullshit that the whiney over-privileged guests can easily turn into problems and complaints because they feel they have the right to

However, she cannot help but wonder what the crisis is really, she told work not to phone her this weekend unless it is an emergency, which has been completely ignored, and this did not sound like one of those. Okay so she might have forgotten to tell Cynthia and Selena they were checking in today, but she also thought she and her trainee could handle it, it is merely another minor problem. 

However, this is though Selena's first time doing nights, so what to some would be enough to pull their hair out; to her was purely one more insignificant predicament that could be dealt with. Then she plunges into another long-spun tale of run-on sentences about customers, both of them feeling like headless chickens because of the systems. Explaining how sorry she is for ringing, not to worry about work, and how she is supposed to be relaxing and enjoying dinner plans tomorrow night with Mr. Rippner before she comes back then she can do some work. She can hear Cynthia start laughing as she is trying to hang up and Lisa is blushing and smiling resembling her little girls, looking at the man next to her with a grin. As she is trying to think of what her red headed friend means by enjoying her husband, when she has three excited little girls to deal with, Cynthia should know that being a mommy of three young children too.

When Cynthia tells her that Selena has just been handed a file by a coworker and she is starting to panic. Cynthia passes the phone to Selena, and Lisa explains to her, the routine in these matters and that Charles Keefe is heading to Miami for last minute emergency meetings with the politicians from the east coast states and other security representatives tomorrow, and for that, he has changed his arrival time at 5am instead. Lisa sighs in fatigue and her eyes glances to check the brightly illuminated clock on the dashboard, while she tells her this is a regular thing that his security does that all the time. 

At the same, time telling Selena to arrange some of his usual items for his room, his Montecito Cubans and the Cristal on ice, as she knows it would be good training for her to do. In just 6 hours or so, she is sure Cynthia has given Keefe and his team plenty of time to get across town, even budgeting extra time in case of traffic. 

It's a normal occurrence, the busy Charles Keefe and Mrs. Keefe are expected at the Lux Atlantic, Charles with his security and diligent team, Cynthia and Seleena are going to greet the Deputy of Homeland Security, and God only knows Cynthia is the only employee she trusts at that hotel. Whom she knows can keep his stay comfortable and most importantly private, as well as train Seleena in procedures and etiquette of providing him with whatever he needs. Remembering how she had proudly trained a panicking Cynthia, when she was a trainee scrambling to gather random items to satisfy her customers, stressing over little details many years ago, whilst Lisa was the ever so encouraging lead manager of the front desk. 

The taxi comes to an unexpected stop at the passenger drop-off and Jackson is elated once they were able to leave, the faster they could get to the check in line the happier they would be, as he begrudgingly pays the driver telling him to keep the wad money but did not tip too lavishly. Just relieved to get out of the cab, and they can now can hopefully get to the check in on time although he is not counting on it. 

Late. They are going to be late.

Getting out and ducked out into the pouring rain, a newspaper each held over their heads in a laughably futile attempt to ward off the driving rain, they grab their luggage out of the trunk quickly. Quickly Jackson swiftly grabs a stray trolley just used by someone getting into a cab, and lifts their small carryon bags on it; afterwards they both walk at a steady stride through the airport. 

The huge airport is crowded with delayed aggravated and rain-soaked passengers who are all gathering in clusters together in fatigued groups with tons of luggage everywhere. As Lisa concludes with her call, she looks up at her dark haired husband a smile crossing her lips and begins to talk to him about her conversation with her dad, before her phone rings again, and her dad comes on sounding concerned as ever. She smiles tiredly and wonders if his just thankful that, they will be home tomorrow to take over the girls.

Listening to Joe as he continues to report to her what has been happening that basically boils down to this: the extensive renovations of the family dream house they are having, is nearly done on their house. How the girls were, he's never doing yoga with them again. As Well as how much trouble he has had putting them to bed, he read 'Cat in the Hat' as he takes a travel down memory lane when she was younger, and he used to read to her instantly making him feel decades older. What her brother has planned for his wedding plans, they have finally decided to do it in Miami, and want the girls as bridesmaids. Asking about her other brother, as well as details on Grandma Henrietta’s funeral, in addition to how their mother is coping with her mother’s lawyer over arrangements. When they get home would they like him to pick them up from the airport? He goes on, on, and on asking her if she is okay, about things, which Lisa does not want to talk about now.

Despairingly exhausted, Lisa sighs as she turns the phone off from the exasperating conversation with her father, placing the warm metal object into her heavy feeling handbag. While she looks at Jackson, they look at each other and he throws Lisa a curious glance, which makes her flush in embarrassment he sees she has gone bright red, and kisses her cheek knowing why, taking her small hand carefully in his hand while Jackson can feel his own cheeks warm, too.

Finally, they get to arrivals and look at the boards, ultimately they find it: Flight 1019 to Miami, Florida was DELAYED, both groaning at the sight of the word and cursing under their breathes, to find their flight very much delayed. Resulting in the already late flight home being trapped by a freak storm the freaking delays, as they both slowly wander their way through the crowds and luggage until they find the FreshAir check-in counter. The check in line for FreshAir Airline is a tedious and time-consuming line. They both wonder how worse this day could get, both trying desperately to stay in a relatively sane mind-frame standing in line for what feels like three hours and swearing upon their and their children's very souls, no matter how urgent or crucial, to never venture into red-eye flights again.

Late night flights are absolutely the worst.

Jackson asks with a huge grin, even though he knows the immediate answer, she will respond with because he has heard it a thousand times before, knowing there is never a time when Joe isn’t worried about Lisa. "How's Joe doing?" Whilst he holds Lisa hand protectively but not possessiveness, even as he reads the New York Times, that is propped open on his blue-sleeved arm and works on the crossword puzzle. From his position next to her, he can smell the delicious scent of jasmine in her hair whilst with his other hand he is rubbing the pad of his thumb along her hand. He loves to smell her hair, she always smells like jasmine, honey blossom, and her favorite perfume, and hibiscus, which is mingled at the moment with the slight aura of cheap wine. Jackson is undoubtedly sure he smells like too, but when his wife’s favorite fragrances are mingled together, and he is close to her that sends him crazy. The bed sheets and pillows always smell of her too, which some mornings he reluctantly hates getting out of bed, usually with a large Cheshire cat grin on his handsome face.

While Lisa reads Dr. Phil her self-help book using it as a distraction, as she is speaking to him with a coy smile on her face, enjoying the feeling of his simple touch, even though it is his, she lets her eyes wander around the airport, trying to condense her father tirade into one simple sentence. 

She notices some flight attendants heading to their next assignment, Children playing videogames, adults with cell phones not looking where they are treading, weary families with children on the cuff of throwing an almighty tantrum. Taking one last glance out into the masses of many noticing how businessmen are talking with their hands and exasperatedly to their bosses and wives on the phone, and lovers kissing and hugging each other goodbye, after that her eyes glances over at the travelers pulling Suitcases being on wheels behind them. That is when everything seems to fall into place and they all turn into blurs of color and noise. "More worried than he's letting on." She says in one simple burst with a sigh, giving him a half smile, and a shrug.

Meanwhile, Jackson meanwhile Smiles and nuzzles his cheek and nose against her shoulder softly, the fabric of her blazer and stubble causing abrasions of hot prickly heat, against his skin waiting for a bad reaction but doesn't get any. He does not want to push, but he can feel the twinge again, however he shoves it away once more. "That's because he loves you, poor kids. At least this gives us some time alone, before he starts again." He says with a small smile, as he thinks of Joe at home, he knows though that when they get older his going to be as bad as Joe is, ringing them every day and asking the same question.

They continue to converse congenially, enjoying each other's company as if they are old friends, and letting time slip away, turning into a dreamy blur, where nobody else is around and they are in a world of their own. Both of them are trying to avoid steering their conversations, to the things that are actually important to them. Lisa with a troubled secrecy a kind of darkness below the bright green orbs she shows to the world, to open her heart to him the only person who knows what lies beneath. As Jackson too desires to confess the things, she needs to know, no correct that, what she should know and longs to talk to her about. However, right now though, maybe it is just too much for them to take. Besides, they are comfortable like this, and none wants to spoil the natural tranquil ambiance around them.

Jackson Smiles warmly, as he looks over at Lisa with the book in her hand, and in his smooth voice he asks, breaking subtly away from the conversation in hand. "So um, what did Cynthia want?" While he is watching her with a small smile and his eyes bright and clear, waiting patiently for her to reply.

Lisa realizes how she is relaxing a little around him. She frowns slightly, looking at him patiently, and smiles knowingly when she meets his eyes. "She asked about the systems apparently, she has lost her username and pin. How Selena wasn't trained on them, and the Taylor's." She answers with a poignant smile, which seems to be conflicting with the lighthearted smile she is trying to portray; her eyes however giving away how troubled she feels. 

Except something in her expression, makes Jackson wonder what she is actually thinking. He remembers the couple that always seems to want Lisa when she's in the middle of something, as though she is always free at their beck and call at all hours of the day. Although Lisa doesn't show it publicly, he knows that they get on her last nerve too, they phoned on her work phone the night before they were due to flew to Dallas, when Lisa was trying to calm a very distressed Olivia to bed, and practically told her to shut the poor child up. She just smiled and coolly gritted her teeth, he knows she desperately wanted to say shove your reservation straight up your ass, to the 'people with special needs', unfortunately she always has to remain professional; she gave him little Olivia and walked into his office with the phone. Leaving him to try to get her settled enough, so she could go back to sleep and dream away, and worrying about how Lisa is really doing.

"Ah, I see great night huh." He says with an insightful smile, and infiltrates in his smooth deep voice, while he unconsciously glances down at the book in her hand. He realizes she is relaxing a little around him, as there seems to be an easing through her somewhat stiff with nervous tension shoulders. "Are you still reading Dr. Phil?"

When she hears Jackson say that, Lisa unwittingly gives him an adorable little playful smile, not wanting her thoughts to become obvious to him. "Yes, and loving each and every chapter wanna know what I'm reading" As she answers him sarcastically, shutting the book slightly so she can show him the front cover, in red and white blocked lettering, with a cheesy commercial picture of the man himself, looking pleased about all the money he is raking in with his psychobabble.

Letting his eyes wonder to the book, then back at his still smiling wife. Jackson Smiles mischievously back at her, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Your dad needs to lay off buying you those; I'm worried the book shelf will become a library dedicated to him."

She copies his expression; her eyes are sparkling like diamonds also as she replies. "Don't worry about it; I'll just get another bookshelf."

"As long as they are in your side of the office, and not in the one in the living room, that's fine with me." He retorts in a cheeky manner, his lake blue eyes, and smile also displaying the same expression. 

"Fine" Her eyes now trained firmly back on the book, trying to hide the obvious blush, which is surfacing on her cheeks.

A few moments later as she absentmindedly, starts to roll her roll-on, back and forth gently, as if she is rocking a baby to sleep in a stroller with the well precise practice of a mother in the comfortable silence and security the couple have created. However, in actual fact, she is doing so because of nervous tension, which causes Lisa to unconsciously and accidently knock her carry on, into the woman in front with what looks to be her combat boots. 

Making Jackson who is standing watching this from next to her, and causes him to grin impulsively like a naughty schoolchild, now his eyes instinctively glancing down at his arm, where he starts fake reading his paper not paying attention to the black words. He has already read every printed word on that page his thinks well over fifteen times, which is the disadvantage to being a speed-reader and paying too much attention to the women next to him. Knowing how clumsy his wife, can be from time to time, especially when she is nervous.

The woman's eyes drop down and she notices the unavoidable Dr. Phil book in her hand, they start talking about him, and her rather large family. Lisa meanwhile has her customer friendly face on working to keep her voice sweet, and to Jackson's disappointment. He absolutely hates the man however, he knows ever since 2 years ago Lisa's dad has been buying them for her because she refuses to take therapy. She did ignore them at first, she only began to read them on nights when she had the nightmares, they were too much, and she knew she could not stay asleep.

He listens on hopeful that the line will move on so he does not have to hear any more in relation to Dr. Phil. As he ponders about the queue moving, Lisa the people pleaser gladly gives the book to the woman when she mentions she doesn't get to watch the show, Lisa seems happy enough though to give the book up and Jackson is too as it is one less book for the bookshelf of his and his stupid self-help. The older women smiles and gratefully accepting the book, as she quickly flicks through it and thanks Lisa genuinely.

Thankfully before she can converse again about the book, the older woman is then called to the desk; at the same time as a counter attendant comes forward screeching as she is reminding people on another flight to start queuing. A man in his late 40's hotheaded and irate, clearly as annoyed as them, in a brown suit shuffles his way through the line yelling at a counter attendant.

Lisa turns her head, so does Jackson, to watch the man complaining, hoping he isn't going to cause too much of a scene, subsequently she looks at Jackson, and he stares at her with a grin, the man clearly not happy with the explanation, starts to heckle the woman who is apologizing sincerely.

Subsequently he starts to become discourteous; this man obviously thinks he is speaking for everybody as he stares indignantly at the staff member, leaving the poor woman to feebly try to placate him, but instead manages to further enrage him. 

"Oh, so it doesn't matter that you cancelled my first flight, and then re-routed me twice…" He criticizes in a monotonous, cantankerous voice, as he pulls a disgusted aggravated face at the desk attendant, still trying to calm him down.

This makes Lisa steps in try to calm the situation and uses her managerial skills or what she calls Hotel reflexes, by leaning forward, Lisa raised her voice slightly, and her hotel reflexes kick in. 'When will people learn that anger gets them nowhere quickly?'

Unfortunately, this causes the man seethe further, at the same time as he is glaring down at her as if she is a small child. Standing straight and confident, Lisa leans forward slightly, as the man menacingly turns towards her and raises his voice even more. Jackson steps in soon after, with a sharp voice that cuts through the older man's argument, using his managerial expertise. He has had enough of the person's bullshit; no one is going to talk to his Lisa that way, as they are defending the exasperated counter attendant. Glancing at her husband beside her, looking smart and handsome dressed smartly in his suit, with the newspaper he was reading held in one hand. She can't help but stare at him as he spoke, admiring the way his eyes glittered at the angered passenger. Lisa suddenly finds herself engrossed to him even more than usual as he tries to get his point across, with his handsome face looking serious, are adorned with his gorgeous eyes, that to some people can seem so dangerous.

All the poor woman in the staff was trying to do was direct some of the other passengers to their flights, and this man had obviously had enough of waiting not that they blamed him; she looked as though she was waiting for security would come up to them and get the man out of the airport. However, they thought he sounded worse than their children did, as he begins to retaliate, before wheeling himself round to stare into Jackson’s managerial facial expression, only to have his arm gripped by Jackson, whose fingers clamp around it, in a vice-like hold. Lisa holds her breath, her mind reeling at how straightforward her husband is being, as always, especially to this rude obnoxious man in front of them.

After making their points, they didn't have to call security in order to get the man out after all, he seems to resist anymore, he simply opens his mouth, quickly sighing and instead flicks his gaze over to Lisa before clenching his jaw, which in turn causes Jackson’s eyebrows to rise slightly, as if challenging the angry man. To which he snap childishly, before wrenching his arm out of the tight grip Jackson has on him, and huffily stalking away. As soon as that is over, Jackson smiles triumphantly and is just about to talk to Lisa, opening his mouth, when Lisa sees the umbrella lying on the post and she runs over to give it back to the old woman.

Lisa turns to him grimacing, looking slightly caught off guard, and causing her to smile as she whispering in his ear "Nicely done"

He gins widely, tucking his newspaper beneath his arm, while enjoying the tickle she just gives him from that one action and whispers back, hoping to give her the same feeling "Not at all," Jackson goes on, trying not to look at the beautiful woman next to him, that beautiful women being his wife. "That was just backup." He pauses for a brief second, smiling broadly at his wife with a hint of mischief in his bright blue eyes. "Well you got the ball rolling." She grins back and she kisses him on his scruffy cheek before turning back around.

Lisa smiles sheepishly at him, suddenly avoiding eye contact as she replies, she laughs, to brush aside the nerves she is feeling. "I guess its hotel reflex."

Jackson whispers in her ear again, with the same grin on his face, he wonders if she will relax if he takes them to the Tex Mex his favorite restaurant when travelling and famous for its insanely good tacos. The 24-hour joint was always busy and he knows from previous travels, with their children here to Dallas, that it is in fact positioned right across their gate. "Do you want to know what, that's why God created the Tex-Mex best nachos in town and right in front of our gate?"

She is worried as they have not been alone like this in the last 2 years, and this could lead to more than she is willing to go at the moment. They both agreed tonight, that they would flirt like the old days before they get home and start the grind of work and the girls. Before then every time they consider this, she can never go further and she knows in some ways that is his intention.

"Good tip thanks, but I think I should call dad you know, and see if they are okay and check my messages." She looks at her small wristwatch with a burgundy red strap, and a cream and silver face, her much loved watch that their children had brought her for her birthday. Then she turns her head to him, she quickly smiles as she is slightly embarrassed to answer and trying hard not to show it.

He however knows she is stalling this, and he attempts to hide the slight smile that is trying to force its way across his lips, knowing she frightened, he wants her to have a sense of control over their interaction. Before, they had a good personal life every time he the flirting became more she clams up. He doesn't blame her for this, and he quite understands, but not being able to simply touch and enjoy being with your wife for 2 years can make you crazy. Nevertheless, he knows that in truth that he is the same way in some aspects, but maybe one day, they will get back to the swing of things again and be the couple they were, maybe even better.

"Okay what about I'll save you a seat, just in case you change your mind?" He asks, with his mouth dry and his throat clogged up, forcing him to swallow, while also sensing her awkwardness toward him at the moment.

Lisa is getting nervous; she opens her mouth to reply and then shuts it. She stares up into his eyes for a moment, but all she can see is a little Cynthia on her shoulder grinning at her and mouthing ecstatically. "Do it Leese, enjoy Mr. Rippner like you are supposed to, it's your one chance to feel like you are on a date, before you get home to the kids." She always does this, when Jackson comes in to the hotel sometimes, to collect her for dinner early.

"Oh, uh…um, Okay." She smiles hesitantly, as she answers feeling fear rise inside her, but also a sort of contented anticipation bubbling through.

Finally after such a long wait, they are called to the desk, after being questioned, minor pleasantries the matronly counter staff making the final checks for clearance. Once the interrogation was finished checking in their bags and a quick stamp upon both their already packed passport and gone through security which had been a nightmare since angry travellers who decided that it was a good idea to mess with the security officers, they finally reached the checkpoint and went through without a problem. Usually when they flew with the kids, Jackson would have to call ahead to speed them through the lines and customs.

Jackson kisses Lisa’s cheek gently, and they proceeded to walk their separate ways. 

Lisa carefully tucking her airline ticket away, and began to walk in the direction towards the gate lounge. As she looks around for a seat, and overhearing a middle-aged woman ask her daughter if she was going to be okay comes to a complete stop, Lisa allows herself to smile wistfully as she listens to the conversation. As she watches as a blonde haired girl aged 10 or 11 years old, tells her mother she's fine going on the flight on her own hoping she'd notice her independence, and the girl glances over at Lisa and rolls her eyes as if to say 'parents, honestly'. Lisa is unquestionably familiar with that look, and has to lets out a small laugh, because she is reminded of her dad, and her daughters, as the girl goes with the flight attendant. Automatically she starts playing with the metal band, on the finger twisting it, as she recalls her father asking her the same question not long before they flew out to Dallas, as well as from their last conversation in the call.

She comes out of her musing, in a moment of frozen shock, Lisa gasps and accidentally bumps into a woman running right into her with a cup full of iced mocha coffee in hand, which spills all over her outfit she gives her a false smile and the woman apologises profusely. Of course, she is making excuses, assuring Lisa, it was cold, and meanwhile Lisa has to bite back her sarcastic reply, something along the lines of, “really do you think?” Because the coldness of the drink shocks her so much, she can't even shriek out.

Leaving Lisa to watch as the woman turns away, and calls her husband asking him for another drink; and the husband hollering back something about her finishing the drink already. However, Lisa clears her dry throat, and swipes at a cold droplet slowly inching its way down her top, while she looks over at Jackson who from a distance has an apologetic smile on his face, meanwhile she gives him a little smile tilting her head slightly. While thinking that maybe she will take him up on that offer, maybe it will do some good to her confidence if she does take his offer up, Lisa's lips stretch out into a thin line. Before she turns herself around in the direction of heading to the bathrooms, as she shyly escapes through the throng of people standing around, having a bit of trouble pulling her suitcase along behind her.

Inside the deserted bathroom, she takes off her jacket, and dries her blouse the best she can; as the stains from her jacket refuses to wash away, it makes her sigh in annoyance. Because out of all the blouses, it had to be this one, she contemplates, as she throws away the damp tissue paper, and discarded baby wipes from the counter. In the meantime, hearing the echoes of the announcements being made on all the flights that are currently delayed. Suddenly she pauses momentarily, upon catching herself looking at the scar just above her right breast on her chest, It is a stark contrast against her pale body; just above her breast, upraised and dark pink, it is a mark she will bear for her entire life. 

While she is watching herself reflected in the mirror, as her eyes are drawn to the scar on her breast, looking at it grimly, that is when the awful flashbacks of that afternoon came flooding back to her. As she stares at it with sorrow and pain, the thoughts enter her mind, wishing that she could one day forget about the past, and how her entire life has changed after the incident, she wonders how Jackson can still love her so much, and how he thinks she is beautiful even though that scar now mars her. 

She looks at herself in the mirror again, this time making eye contact with herself, realising how tired she looks, and how her eyes lack the fiery passion, of her former self. Shaking her head, her curls bouncing around her face tickling her cheeks, which takes her from her musings, looking away she reaches into her carryon bag, and removes a button up cardigan to put on over the over a pretty tank-top and changes quickly. 

When she walks out of the washroom letting the door slam behind her, she starts surveying the area watchfully; she notices that Jackson is waiting for her at the Tex Mex playing with his glass, alongside a plate of nachos in front of him. That he is casually picking out a nacho every now and then probably to quench his hunger, or to soak up the alcohol they had at the funeral with his other hand, and noting an empty seat next to him in hopes that she would change her mind. Not even noticing when Lisa slips up behind him and taps his shoulder to gain his attention. He looks like he is musing as much as she is of the strains of the day, and wonders if his thinking what she is thinking or waiting for news on their flight or a progress report from one of his associates in Miami concerning an assignment.

Patting the patterned fabric covered seat next to him, Lisa asks curiously, with a small smile, she can smell the subtle whiff of alcohol like a thin aura around him, as she is sure she has too. "Is this seat taken?"

Jackson turns his head to her and a triumphant smile crossing his face immediately, his mind going back to their first date at the hotel restaurant. As he watches her for a moment, it is very difficult not to notice the pretty woman next to him Lisa Reisert has always been a mystery, and how this seems to be very familiar to it, noting the way she is feeling slightly uncomfortable around him. He watches her from the corner of his eyes sit in a lady like manner; making sure her skirt isn't twisted by the action, and shuffle her luggage around. He notices as always, that she has such a beautiful smile, and as far as he was concerned, it is honest, and it wasn't the same people pleaser look she always gives to all of the customers at the Lux, it was the smile she gave him when she felt comfortable and their daughters. He also observes how her auburn curls shine, even in the dim lighting of the Tex-Mex exposing the wonderful array of colours highlighting the auburn sheen further. 

"No not yet, have a seat." He answers, gesturing to the seat in question, while the little voice in his head condescendingly replies in amusement, ‘That’s real smooth, Rippner, Impeccably smooth’.

She smiles watching him as he plays with the glass she guesses he had scotch or brandy in, her mind distracted with the memories, flashing through her mind of Jackson, and where it all began 9 years ago, until she feels the words slip from her lips.

"Are you okay Jackson?" She asks timidly, almost in a whisper, genuinely curious to the answer, as she knows how much of an emotional day for him too.

He turns and smiles at her, glad she came here; he was worried and could bet his next pay cheque, even though he is not much of a gambling man that she would feel uncomfortable, about the whole thing and probably hide in the bathroom until their flight is called. Alternatively, she would go and sit somewhere quiet, less crowded and he would bring drinks over to her and have small talk. However, she had made a last minute decision to wind down with comfort food and a nice drink to boot, but there's also the thrill of flirting with her at the Tex Mex bar, the enjoyment at acting normal with his captivating woman. "Yer good thank you, so…did you call your dad then, how are they doing?" He says with an inquiring smile, though what he has just said is absolutely compassionate and sincere, and in his heart perfectly true, he's also caught himself in a lie. Because what he has wanted to tell her all night is, "You look so beautiful tonight”.

That's when Lisa decides to relax and enjoy the night, doing something she had been so proud of before. "Yep no more calls, they’re good, they're still fast asleep at the moment, nothing new to report". She says, with a small smile on her lips, and mentally slaps herself. Great excuse, wasn't it? Looking away, she avoids eye contact, as she can tell by the look on his face, that he doesn't believe one word of her excuse, however he understands why she did. Because by the way, he continues to stare at her and smiles trying to be secretively thrilled as he did on their first date, however she knows he cannot lie, and genuinely is ecstatic to see her accept his offer. Remembering how he was the first guy all those years ago, to have caught her eye after years of dedicating herself to her work.

He glances down to his arm and checks his watch; glad to see it is an hour where they would be sound asleep in their beds. "Oh good, I was worried they would be wide awake, causing your dad problems." He says knowing she didn't, her eyes are wide and completely giving away the fact that she's lying, and because if she did the conversation would have lasted more than 5 minutes. Joe would have told her everything, he strokes her arm gently, smiles, she smiles back, and he knows she's comfortable again, her natural guard lowering slightly not being stupidly over-trusting and he approves her caution.

"Hey, what would you like to drink?" He asks truthfully and a little weary, as the slight grin from earlier making its appearance, and he straightens up his posture. Afterwards he bites his bottom lip, as he raises an eyebrow and can see the underlying sadness in her eyes under the reserved flirting, and wonders if she's been worrying about the fact it's coming up to the 2nd anniversary.

Meanwhile Lisa observes him sucking in a breath still biting his full bottom lip and thinks about their daughter Olivia doing the same thing when she's concentrating on something like her drawings, or whenever she tries to piece words together to form sentences. Combined with how incredibly sexy he looks doing it, done in such a subtle flirtatious way, which makes him look more handsome. He did the same action on their first date, and while she was cautious, she liked that a lot. While it also reminds herself, of how cute their youngest daughter Olivia looks too. As she shakes her head, she did not want this to become more than it already is. It is already leading somewhere, and she would not let him buy her anything and leave her in debt like last time and she perks up in interest.

"Yes, please”. She says as she is now twirling one of her curls around her finger and biting the corner of her lower lip, a sign that she was concentrating that is both sweet and refreshing, while she was looking at the menu.

Entranced by this, Jackson watches her as if completely hypnotised. She does that a lot, not in an outlandish flirtatious way; it is just innocent, carefree, and childlike and reminds him of Emily their oldest daughter who is a twin. She does the same thing when she is doing homework, drawing a pretty picture, or simply looking at a menu and it always reminds him of their first date and never fails to make him smile and something he likes.

Jackson remembers he did this to her 9 years earlier, when they went to the hotel bar for their first date. He was at the Lux checking in, for a very long and tiring few days on an assignment. The first time he saw her, he knew she was the woman he wanted to marry. He remembers how beautiful she looked sitting next to him smiling; as he played the guessing game he noticed the way her eyes had strayed, and inclined her head towards the vodka section. As if he has the ability of telekinetic and reading her mind, of what her drink was, he guessed correctly, dead on, and he noticed she was impressed, more relaxed and yet slightly flustered. 

Of course, she lied about her drink, knowing she enjoyed the guessing game, up until he had narrowed it down to the final two, and there was no way she would give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right, so instead she ordered a Bay Breeze instead and got slightly tipsy, also displaying her wicked sense of humour. They spoke about his name and a kid Lisa knew at school who was also unfortunately named, both having to wear glasses and had braces until high school, Jackson being a band geek, Lisa playing on the girl’s field hockey team. Being born in the great state of New York in Albany, how he killed his parents, which is not exactly true his mother a psychology professor and the head of the department at the same collage his dad teaches at, died of a brain tumour when he was younger. Explaining his father is a professor of English and can be as annoying as Joe can be, when it comes to his feminist artistic artist of an art teacher sister. Then they went to dinner and enjoyed each other's company, although he did not go too much into his job at that time she had fun trying to guess.

He looks at her and smirks raising his eyebrows, that look she just gave, made him feel warm and slightly self-indulgent. It is one of his many favourite looks, which makes him almost go insane inside every time, and can be a very dangerous thing, which he can barely control himself when she gives it to him. As they carry on sharing secretive looks, constant glances that look so… coy, and blushing a bit in a way that, only they would understand. He throws his head back, and acts as though he is lost in thought, when really he is just trying to figure out the best winding trail to the already known answer of Seabreeze as it was at the hotel restaurant, a game that they still play sometimes when they were out on a date night. Even though he does know the answer, the look she just gives to him always gives away the fact that vodka is in the drink. She smirks back her green eyes twinkling, he knows she is going to lie again, but was one of the things he loves about her, that he could read her and she always surprises him, which the girls have inherited too. She does end up lying to him again, but uses it to his advantage.

The bar tender comes over and asks what he would like, Jackson asks for a beer while Lisa gives him a dark look before she asks directing her attention to the bartender for a bay breeze throwing him a smirk as she does, and he gives her an equally dark look because he can tell she was up to something. The bar tender nods once goes away hurrying to fill the drink order, leaving them to chat some more

Lisa plays her hair, twirling a strand around her finger before pushing it behind her ear, drawing his attention to the slim lines of her neck a small, embarrassed smile playing on her lips; her cheeks are blushing a light pink hue slightly, as she asks him in a jovially flirtatious tone of voice. "That's some trick you've got there Mr. Rippner, thanks for the drink, by the way."

Her husband Smiles and Jackson watches his wife with a grin starting to grow on his lips, reaching his eyes, and brightening them further. He wonders at thirty five-years-old, how he ended up being married with this wonderful woman for 8 years as he pulls his transfixed eyes once more from the crook of her exposed neck, even though her hair isn’t up tonight. At the line of her jaw, to the hollow, leading him to the joining-point, just below her right ear, noticing how she isn’t wearing any earrings, and realizing how he always manages to get distracted when he looks at her. "That's okay, it's a good way to break the ice, and though I do believe this is the second time I've ever been wrong." As he answers her in a contented tone, and with an immense smile now on his features that makes his clear blue eyes sparkle, while he thinks about this, he wonders about his beautiful little girls too.

"You know I've been thinking all day about how the women in your family are quite dynamic. Along with how my daughters seem to be just as energetic and how I am in for a lot of trouble."

She looks at him, amiably, expectantly, and laughs; she knows her daughters have many of their traits, which is both a good thing and in a small way a bad thing, but can mostly be counted as good. "Are you talking about how my grandmother ate grape nuts to keep her arteries clean, and used Duke for rest?" She waves her hand dismissively and laughs warmly, clearly embarrassed by the thought of her 91 years grandmother and the much younger, but just as enthusiastic Duke.

"She was never fazed by anything she always told me to look forward." A slight smile dances upon her lips, although it comes out more as a poignant smile, as she feels a pang of sadness as she thinks of her grandmother, and how devastated her mother looked at the funeral. Remembering her grandmother's alma mater 'Always look forward', and quirky philosophies her grandmother had had a wonderful life; she had a wonderful life too before it was taken away from her one afternoon it has been those very qualities that have gotten Lisa through the most trialing times. She had been really close to Grandma Henrietta and her death was a crushing blow to her already fragile world. If was she a weaker person, then there would be no doubt that a breakdown would have occurred. However, Lisa Rippner formally known as Reisert is no weakling. With her feeling, her grandmother's spirit watching and guiding her, with her optimistic yet realistic outlook Lisa suddenly feels the need to let certain things go for the moment, and just be happy flirting with her gorgeous husband. 

The same one that her grandmother said was worth keeping and told her if she was much younger, and didn't have Duke she would have him herself, she was always good at reading people within her vast circle of family, friends and acquaintances. She did not HAVE to dwell on the past, spiralling into the oppressive cycle of victimisation and self-pity on the past right now. She could look forward and with an impulsive renewed vigour, and suddenly her olive green orbs sparkle with confidence and determination.

Jackson notices her olive green eyes are full of confidence, focused, and as striking as ever. "Well, you seem to use me for the same thing" he jokes in a cordially tone of voice, causing his dimples to show like a naughty schoolboy. He scrutinises her meticulously, knowing what she is hiding behind her deep sorrow and natural awkwardness, and remembering she was the first woman he'd ever met, who had been shy about the topic of sex, which makes him laughs loudly along with Lisa, as he continues. "And I'm sure our girls will do the same to theirs when they're older; I know you and your mother were close to her I'm sorry she passed."

"Of course, I know she helped us a lot and I miss her." Lisa says with sadness now on her features, suddenly finding the need to talk about her grandma. Her eyes look glassy with a flicker blue, while she gives him a sad smile, and see how his eyes are somewhat as glassy as her own are, because what he has just said is absolutely sincere, and in her heart she knows it is perfectly true.

"I think she knows you are Leese." He says as he smiles sorrowfully and holds her hand squeezing it slightly; she smiles back with the same expression. ”To Grandma Henrietta, her spirit is still very much alive."

The Bar tender gives them their drinks and Lisa takes the drink in front of her, the glass sparkles with little beads of condensation around the sides and she takes a sip, rather large a gulp to taste it. She instinctively scrunches her nose, when she tastes the Baybreeze, as she brushes off the taste, and Jackson cannot help but grin. As he is reminded of Millie the younger twin, when she is doing the same thing at the sight of or anybody refers to vegetables or anything she does not enjoy, and he smirks at his wife, who smirks back.

"Does that taste OK?" Jackson smiles and tipped his head towards the bartender. "I think you should of have had that seabreeze Leese?" Jackson continues their casual flirtatious conversation, one and while casually glancing up at the TV screen as the face of Charles Keefe takes over.

Watching Jackson’s handsome profile, Lisa wonders how many women would die just to have him smile at them like that. How many would die to sleep with him? "I think you know me too well Jackson Rippner, but I'm fine so you don't need to ask me." She rasps out, a little too quickly, she nods at him with a smile, emphasizing her point and tightly grips her drink.

He continues to grin at her touching her leg, as he knows where this is heading. "Really are you sure?" He half-smiles at the question her, asking the question her dad asks all the time, and compares himself to her dad, that's when his phone starts to ring. Just as she is going to answer, and he sighs frustrated by the interruption. He was just getting started, having a pleasant occasion with his wife, and feels as though she was just about to open up to him, maybe starting to tell him the things she hadn't told anyone, that she felt she wanted to tell him. He can tell she wants to keep talking to him, as much as he wants to keep talking to her; however, it is intruded upon by an obnoxious beeping, which he, unfortunately, recognizes. "God what do they want now." He picks it up from his belt again, and glances at the id. It's Brad one of his work colleagues and, he sighs and looks at Lisa apologetically. It seems that his official title is manager, but lately it is beginning to feel more like babysitter to his staff, he had ordered them not to be disturbed, until he called them. "Baby I have to take this, I'm sorry" He says with a slight frown, and his expression seems to be of annoyance, not waiting for Brad's response, he puts his hand over the speaker and faces her to give them some privacy, knowing barely as he is just about to say something, and he is interrupted. 

It is well after midnight, and finally there is an announcement regarding their flight 1019 is departing now, after all the delays from the thunderstorm, they are finally leaving, and a sudden uproar of noise as people start to clap and cheer around Jackson and Lisa. He looks around the crowd, and finds himself playing along with the clapping. Knowing they are finally going home to see their little girls, and give Lisa's father a well-deserved break from the chaos, although both of them seemingly rather reluctant to leave their places at the bar.

Letting out a long breath, Lisa smiled reluctantly and lightly claps for a moment; consequently, she consumes the rest of her drink, before she gets down from the stool carefully twisting her skirt back in place, and grabs her shoulder bag from the counter. "Okay thank you, can I pay for the drinks at least?" As she delves into the organized madness of her bag, for her purse, with a hesitant smile crosses her features, she's always been fiercely independent.

Jackson meanwhile beams a dashing smile, as he watches her, as she doesn't mind him buying her a drink, maybe she's hoping to use it as an excuse to buy him one when they get back to Miami and have a date night. She always seems to get this way, at this part and it is very cute, but he also knows, there is fear inside her and he wishes she would just tell him what's wrong. "You're welcome I'll pay, you go and get on the plane I'll meet you there." He replies, keeping the smile on his face, even though at this moment he feels as awkward as she does and slides some bills onto the tile-decorated bar to the bartender, effectively paying for their drinks.

Shaking her head as if to shake off the alcohol from the bay breeze, Lisa smiles back putting her purse back into her shoulder bag, and kisses his rough cheek before turning, walking off with her roll on in hand, and then stopping to halfway and turning to see him. She smiles watching him, as he’s on the phone studying her also with that twinkle still in his eyes, and casually glancing away subtly so it appears he’s lazily scanning the entire restaurant and airport at the crowd in all that of leisure, as they continue with their laid-back flirting. 

The Tex Mex Café is now beginning to get packed in with latecomers and early risers, whilst his phone is attached to his ear in no time. "Fine so were still on great and they are okay, and their all-sleeping good I'm worried though, I'll let you know thanks for watching." He questions, the cell phone now clenched tightly in his palm, as he turns away to pay the bill, his voice sounding relieved at least and seems to be getting lost in the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

With her heels tapping loudly with a bounce in her step against the tiled flooring of the vast metal and windowed structure of the building causing the sound to echo exceeding in the air the sounds of hurrying scuttling passengers, busy tiredly making their way through the airport process. Meanwhile Lisa is attempting to do the same begins to put her defenses up once more, as she takes a deep breath and, holding her head high, even though she is feeling bone-weary, and just a little tipsy from the baybreezes she has consumed, as she walks through the airport trying to get to the gate on time. 

Unfortunately, she knocks into two overly excited teenage boys who run past her obviously thinking they were late to get on the flight too. She gives them a tired congenial smile, her mind spinning with retorts for them; instead, she takes one last sweeping glance around to see the still about fifty passengers waiting to board the gate and gives the blonde flight attendant her ticket with a strained and appropriate exhausted smile.

As she finally gets on the plane, the African-American woman is exceedingly friendly, sweet, and polite as she directs her to where she is seated, although it should be obvious, Lisa thanks the younger woman. She feels some sympathetic towards the attendants for having to plaster a smile on their faces all day, regardless of how they were treated by passengers, as she too endures the same thing at her hotel with customers. However next to her the older redheaded flight attendant, with her eyes burning fire as she gazes at passengers as though she is willing to set them on fire, looking as though she must've had a bad day, she seems rather cantankerous and disgruntled with any of their presence. Lisa smiles graciously, even though she is too tired to care, and turns to the directed route and walks along the aisle, making her way down to her assigned seat next to her husband.

Looking for her seat, she carefully steps over other people's baggage, her shiny auburn hair bouncing, looking confident and secure in herself, and feeling the excitement of finally getting home and thinking about seeing the little excited girls waiting for them. Passing through into another area, Lisa bites back a groan as she surveys the chaotic scene around her. She smiles sincerely as she walks past a man and women of the screaming baby, making a mental note to wait as long as possible before taking the girls on a red eye flight.

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In the meantime, Jackson who had gotten to the gate and boarded the plane a few minutes earlier and now is sitting in his uncomfortable, cheap polyester coated, economic seat in 18F already. Waiting patiently for his seatmate, and trying to remember what had possessed them to settle for seats in coach, In the grand scheme of things, he wonders why he didn't spend a thousand dollars more for first class seats instead? He knows from experience it would've been worth it.

This is while he is looking at photographs of the girls and Lisa, inside an expandable amount of plastic sleeves, inside his worn and somewhat abused looking black leather wallet inscribed with the initials JR in silver letters, the girls had brought him for Father's Day 3 years ago, Joe also received one too, only with gold initials.

He looks at them intently, his eyes almost translucent as though deep in thought, drifting into his own world private little world in his mind that no one else can get to. While an enormous smile graces his lips, the kind you get when you think of the people you love, his index finger stroking the little faces in the photograph. In addition, Jackson Rippner loves his wife, and very energetic children, they are the most important things to him.

One of them is from a year ago of them beach playing in the water together, he is laughing, absolutely drenched laying on the golden sand by the shore, as small tranquil turquoise waves are lapping at his legs taken by Joe. As his then four-year-old auburn haired light blue eyed daughter Emily, throws a pink princess castle bucket full of salty seawater over his already soaked head and chest, while her dark haired green eyed non identical twin sister Millie is bent on her little knees, holds his arms with a huge mischievous smile on her sweet little elfin face. At the same time as a giggling Lisa holds their auburn haired green-eyed youngest daughter, a little three-year-old Olivia looking a slightly bewildered and considerably overwhelmed by it all and she's very tired as she was rocking back and forth. Whereas Lisa takes, her little hand in her own and holding it gently as they are tickling his feet, at the same time as he thrashes his feet against them.

Another that seems to be taken around the same time, maybe later, is from what he can tell, of the girls on their own playing at the park for the twins favorite kind of party, one of their special weekly 'Picnic Tea party'. Sitting on a blue and white checked blanket surrounded by tons of plastic food containers, the twins in the background are fighting as always about where to position their dolls for the feast, on the bright green grass, waiting for the delicious food to be served. Whereas in the focal part of the picture, Little Olivia lies on the blanket, drawing a pretty picture in wax crayons of butterflies and cats with a small shy smile on her beautiful little elfin face.

Turning the pages carefully back he comes to the one in the front pouch is a picture of a hot and sweaty Lisa, with strands of hair stuck to her forehead the rest of her hair matted and in need of a wash. She’s on the hockey field with her field stick, looking as though she's about to whack somebody with it as hard as possible. Looking an absolute sweaty mess, with plump red lips and heavily lined eyes with a come-hither look, looking lethal and determined. A smaller version of the one that sits framed proudly in her father’s house, next to her graduation picture, alongside the professional photograph of Lisa had her hair in a messy bun and a 10-mile wide smile as a shiny gold medal award was hanging from her neck on her fathers’ polished mahogany desk. 

He never goes anywhere without reminders of his family, because they are the most important things in his life. He had never thought that he would have the feelings that he has for his family; he loves them so much that he will protect them to the ends of the earth, there is no way in hell anyone is ever gonna take his baby girls, or beautiful wife away from him.

Actually, unbelievably he had never thought that he would have a family with his career, and the things that he had done and seen in his past careers, in the army, working with the CIA, and now the company. He has found, it is the hardest job he has ever had to do…being a daddy, as it takes a lot of skill and patience and is constant work and growth, being protective, supportive, and responsible towards their children, there isn’t even a training guide to help it just comes from instinct. Nevertheless, it has been the most rewarding thing he has ever done, he has become a part of Lisa's life in a way he never thought he would have before with anyone else, and ended up seeing humanity, stability, and compassion again in relation to others. While also having the ability to generate life, and lead him to configure a role in society, whereby he isn’t affirming his supremacy over women or Lisa like it dictates, where he is the breadwinners and Lisa stays at home to cook, clean and take care of children. Because the truth is, their roles are pretty much even, and he likes it that way being able to be around his children.

Coming out of his happy thoughts, he glances down at his Rolex tiredly for the time, and then looks up watching as the other passengers, wearily shove their carry-on suitcases and hand luggage into the overhead bins with a large clunk shut, and find their seats. All of a sudden, he sees Lisa, her hair shining brightly in the light, and her eyes glancing around the cabin, while smiling tiredly as she is coming down the aisle, when she realizes her husband is in the empty seat next to hers already.

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Confused, but somewhat relieved she has finally found her husband seat realizing she is clearly sitting by the window, she has to do a double take shaking her head and squints wondering inquisitively, while trying to think of some sort of explanation as to how he got there so fast; they graciously exchange smiles as she sees him. 

He puts the wallet away in his inside breast pocket; and a sudden feeling of dread fell upon him as he thinks of what he had to do to her. Lisa walks down the aisle and finds her seat; sitting next to her was her husband in the seat next to the window. 

Tired and definitely ready to snuggle into a cheap, airline-provided pillow rested on her husband’s shoulder, maybe-taking advantage of cuddling against Jackson in the process feeling his warmth, and falling asleep as they did back in the cab. Simultaneously, the pair glances at each other; she looks down still smiling at him and is thankful, and rather surprised to see him there already. Feeling a little incredulous that he hasn't offered any justification as for his early arrival, she knows his fast but this fast especially when she had a head start. Not that she is complaining, at least she could see where they were sitting, but it was too odd a move not to explain why or how.

"Hey, I figured you…." Jackson indicates brightly in a delighted tone, with a wide smile to match, looking up at her, ecstatic at seeing her beautiful familiar smiling face, that he never gets bored of seeing.

"Hey me too…" Lisa responds softly, frowning slightly as she looks down at her husband, with a bemused expression.

Being the thoughtful gentleman he always is, Jackson already stands up and grins at her eager to assist her, and resuming the flirting they were doing at the bar. He enjoys seeing her so relaxed around him; it has been such a long time since they have been like this. Moreover, he was going to take full advantage of this, while he can because when they get home he’s not sure if this will continue, or they will be able to. "Do you want a bellhop?" He inquires, with a flirtatious smile, on his handsome face, and bright clear blue eyes glimmering in lights.

"No, no, Jackson I can do this." Lisa asserts with a smile, eyes glowing with radiance, while she is waving her hands.

"Leese let me." Jackson requests, with a semiserious smile, his eyes still complimentary, while being the man, he is, but he knows she will refuse the gesture.

Acceptably Lisa has an equally playful smile, while she rolls her big emerald eyes at him, leaving her roll-on suitcase for Jackson to put up. She steps back, so Jackson has room and can lift her carry-on bag, and can stow it away in the overhead compartment. As a rush of air whooshes up her nostrils as he does the action, giving her another whiff of his scent. "Sure" She replies with an appreciative jovial tone mixed with flirtation, while adding a little shrug to emphases, and eyes glinting mischievously.

Lifting the roll on in his arms, and into the overhead baggage compartment, Lisa scoots past him not noticing the low overhead carrier, she knocks her head against the corner of it with a dull thud, and he curls his lips into a large grin, at her continued clumsiness. "Are you feeling okay Baby?" He inquires, with real uncertainty, eyebrows frowning slightly, and concern in his voice.

Crying out, Lisa grasps the back of her head and paused, screwing her eyes shut as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. "Ow, I'm not usually such a lightweight.” She proclaims with shock and lightheartedness in her voice, as she sits down in the window seat with her purse on her lap and subconsciously smoothes her skirt, as she makes eye contact with him, her cheeks now lit a soft shade of pink and a coy smile playing on her lips. All she can see, when she looks at her husband is the expression of amusement on his face, at her clumsiness along with an 'I know' expression as his intense blue eyes twinkle wickedly.

"Those Strong bay breezes, I actually blame you for that." Lisa states with seriously in her voice, however her bright eyes are telling another story, as she pretends to be accusing him.

Snapping the compartment shut, Jackson returns to his seat clipping his seatbelt into place, and with a slightly waves his hand, as he answers, pretending to be sympathetic to her predicament as he pouts and nods, catching onto what she is insinuating. "Well I was going to cut you off anyways." As a consequent, he stares at her for a moment longer, before allowing a small grin to form, knowing full and well that they have both had more box wine in the last few hours than they have had over the last three years, add one drink of baybreeze can always knock her off her feet.

Lisa smiles at him, whenever she looks into piercing eyes when they are like this, they seem to look straight at her and always causes her a deep tickle in her that will never change is the slightly mesmerizing, and bizarre chemistry between them. "We did have that cheap wine at the funeral, and I guess it doesn't mix well with the cheap alcohol at the airport." She teases, and realizes it was a lousy explanation, but it doesn't matter, her head is painfully throbbing, and a dull ache lingers for a couple of seconds, while she rubs her head, and sighs.

Jackson gives her an apologetic expression, but his smirking on the inside as he answers her. "Nope, Well I feel terrible for that, so are you okay?"

Lisa gives him a knowing look, a small but unintentional playful smile attempting to cross her face, eyes thoughtful as she drops her hand. "You should, but yer I'm fine"

The older woman who Lisa gave the book to passes their seats, smiling and yelling at her, in an embarrassing but friendly manner that she is already on chapter 2. Lisa smiles her people pleaser winning smile managing to hide how tired looks, and Jackson smiles too politely just glad it's out of Lisa's hands, and wonders if she has found the colorful artwork Millie and Emily had done on the picture of the man in question in crayons and an array of vibrantly colored magic markers. When he looks back at Lisa he throws her an insightful look, and she looks at him back with a smile although seems lost in thought in one of her multitasking moments that comes from her work and being a mother.

Just after the tall, snobbish, redheaded senior flight attendant stalks past and rolls her eyes obviously mistrustful of the young couple, as she witnesses them chatting amicably to each other as if they have known each other for years casually flirting, which is true anyway. Jackson watches her walk away, throwing fake smiles here and there around the cabin. He hopes she isn't going to be a problem tonight.

"I really do are you sure?" Jackson replies and then laughed slightly, his mind drifting slowly away to watch the other passenger's files slowly could find a way to make it up to her, reasons for why he wants to do all he wanted.

Lisa smiles slightly, as she is looking at him at little embarrassed, her cheeks flushed. "If I say yes to you, are you going to ask me are you sure again?"

He responds quickly, laughing gently while sympathetic, as he holds a hand up in admission of defeat. "No, no that's your dads department; I'm just being the loving caring husband I am." Looking at her simultaneously and smirks as the edges of his lips curl wickedly, nodding slowly as she looks at him with a wide smile, and then both of them looking away shyly, trying to hide their smiles as they continue in the midst of their easy going flirting.

She had never met anybody who had listened and understood her so quickly, as the man next to her does. He is always hanging onto, and taking in, every word she has to say. She has always liked a man who listened…really listened to a woman, and she feels privileged to have that, not many women have that kind of attentiveness from their husbands and boyfriends. When he was flirting with her 9 years ago in the hotel check in line and indeed right now, it wasn't to the extent where he was being blatant enough to have his intentions written across his face, or too charming to be real, as if there was something wrong with him underneath the facade. There was no cheeky grin, no flashing of his cash, no clichéd pick-up lines. 

It seems as though; she was and still doe’s fall for him, because of the natural charm and schoolboy smile that he seems to posses along with his incredibly goofy, modest, yet still entrancing and thoughtful personality while also exceptionally intelligent without being conceited about the fact. At first though, she was reluctant to date him, but then realized after a while that he was a decent man and fell in love with him. She found that before he engages in a decent conversation with her, he wants her to feel relaxed enough around him, something that she has admired him for over the years, and considering the past couple of years. He is so strikingly handsome and aware of it, but doesn't use this as an excuse for being an arrogant bastard towards her, all smarmy with a constant smirk on his face displaying his egotism. 

Just like somebody else, she knows did a couple of years ago, and that thought makes her smile sadly with an underlying sense of regret interwoven in her expression. The real problem is, why she can't seem to break through the barrier she has built for herself, and the feeling of guilt, because she is unable to touch him in the same gentle manner he has been.

All of a sudden, a woman in her late forties surgically enhanced face, looks their way looking as though she wants to devour Jackson using a provoking dreamy stare, and therefore breaking Lisa from her musing. Attempting to wink at Jackson actually, she is gawking at a married man, appearing to need help, and worse off than Lisa does. She keeps struggling with the suitcase failing to shove her oversized luggage into the small overhead compartment; obviously, she thinking this is a fantastic reason for guys to help her.

The woman is wearing a white fabric pant suit, with a low-cut scarlet blouse, and a burgundy scarf around her scrawny and wrinkled little neck, looking helplessly at Jackson with a wide toothy-white grin that looks as though she spends every week at the dentists. As well as way too much make-up on, she has probably brought shares in Revlon and Maybelline to try to become one of their cover women no doubt, a definite botoxed face which if she tried to smile anymore she may strain a muscle and need immediate medical attention. She seems to be a little too tanned with an overly manufactured tan; she looks as orange and wrinkled up like a prune as the elderly women sunbathing on Miami Beach. Her long, overly fussed and teased to the max with hair is a little too unmistakably bleached, which is probably so she can justify acting like a ditzy blonde-haired woman. With her most definitely wearing a copious amount of gaudy jewellery, she also has fiendish false nails painted in gaudy colors, and that look like they can scratch Lisa's eyes out if she decided on a catfight against her for Jackson.

In addition, obviously like any other women on this earth to ever lay eyes on the man, she finds Jackson very attractive, because she is giving him a scary leering stare while licking her toxic needle treated pumped up, and overly stained lips. As if she could eat him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and if she has any of him left maybe, desert too she is a definite cougar. It is worrying how the woman could ever be a mother, or a grandmother.  
Jackson eyes narrow slightly as he watches her intently. He can feel a small niggling thought in the back of his head as he observes her, knowing that he has seen her somewhere before, but unable to pinpoint exactly whom she was or where.

"Could you help me please?" The bottle blond pleads in a flirtatious tone, with huge puppy dog eyes that he knows certain little people at home use and still donning a large smile"

In a low voice, Lisa looks at Jackson's grimacing face, as she turns to look and smiles at the woman in question and trying her hardest not to chuckle at the situation. "Guess somebody needs a bellhop."

She is used to women checking him out, most women in her position would probably feel a little threatened by the prospect, as well as he is the same with Lisa although Jackson sometimes gets jealous. However, at the same time they respect each other too much, and recognize the value of each other too well to identify that cheating doesn't even enter their equation. However she can tell from her body language she was falling for his undeniable handsomeness and charm that seems to aura around him, to say the least, she seems highly flattered that he actually took notice of her; and she can see him cringe in his seat because of it. Lisa even would be jealous had it not been for the fact that, she looks like an older Barbie that her oldest daughter would play with, and that Jackson hasn't looked at the woman or any other for that matter in the entire 10 minutes she has been on the plane.

Giving her an uncomfortable smile, he starts wondering if he could kill this woman without anyone noticing she was gone, and then thought better of it. There is one thing he cannot stand, even more than empty-headed air hostesses, is a ditzy blonde, one-night stand type of women being obvious in their flirting and pretending they are useless in that calculating sultry look women tended to throw in his direction. Especially when it is an older woman, who obviously watching too many Housewife shows and should know better, while also being restricted in the confines of a metal structure that is travelling mid-air with no prospect of an escape route, and his wife is next to him. He likes strong women, which is why he married Lisa Reisert, strong, beautiful, intelligent, resourceful, caring woman he has ever met. However, right now, without even looking at the woman's face he can tell she is looking at him as though he is a delectable idiot for the taking, right in front of his wife, and noticing how much taller she is to him. He signs to Lisa, with an exasperated look on his face, not caring if she can see or not, she will not understand it anyway. "God, can she tell were married"

He has been trained over the years to be invisible; he can fit in almost everywhere, in all classes and societies because he has been honed to do so to get to a target. However, there is no use bringing attention to them, a challenge for even to a resourceful man such as Jackson Rippner, on the plane. He does not need people unnecessarily snooping around, and asking questions that do not concern them.

Lisa says drolly to him with a cheeky smile, as she leans in a little closer, but still keeping some personal space between them, as if to offer a secret. "Well, she's probably jealous of us."

Jackson sighs and tries to concentrate, with humor lit his bright eyes and with a slight teasing smile, as he studies her looking at her light intelligent eyes, and prompting another blush to rise in her cheeks. "Leese don't start please."

Once Lisa prompts him, again with her elbow in his side, taking him away from the fun, he was having with his wife and in the midst of his jaw clenched. He reluctantly unbuckles his seatbelt and gets up from his seat his leg brushing against hers and away from Lisa to help Shelia. Making sure, he plasters a smile on his face, however his smile is too broad to be genuine.

The woman is now shamelessly flirting with him, he keeps trying to remind her he is married by showing her the ring and looking at Lisa, who keeps sniggering her shoulders begin to shake, smiling and shaking her head at him when he does. However, Shelia doesn't seem to take the bait or relent, it just makes her attempt more, while a bemused Jackson stretches his arms up, taking out the Blonde's not so heavy unwieldy clunking suitcase quickly, her fingers staying on his for a second too long as far as he is concerned. As he tries to think of something else, he has conceal a small shudder at the thought and her touch, and it brings his thoughts back to the blonde his helping, merely smiling at her as he quickly tries to extricate her fingers from his. Grinning having composed himself, he gives the suitcase one last shove before it slipped into the slot, glad it is finally going to get into the small compartment. When he’s finished the overhead door shuts with a satisfied click, and he can get away from her in lightning speed, because her expression now is the desperate attempt for him to give her his phone number.

"Just when I thought there weren't any gentlemen left," she purrs, leaning closer to him, leering at him with an awful attempt of being seductive.

He shakes his head in skepticism, before he makes his way back to his seat and sits back down, straightening his shirt out as he puts his seatbelt on, turning his head to look over at Lisa who is facing the window and from the reflection, he can see that she is still giggling with her hand covering her mouth. "Oh, my," he exhales noisily

Jackson watches his wife grinning as she laughs, wishing that she would turn and face him, so he could see her wonderful face at that moment; wishing that he could see the way the laughter always seems to light up her beautiful green eyes, the same way his daughters do, and his grin grows larger at her. Lisa turns around and faces him, her expression affectionate and intelligent, a smile showing off her dimples wickedly, and he knows exactly what she is about to do and say. "She is definitely a bottle blonde, and she is old enough to be a grandmother to our children."

He chuckles, his dimples also now noticeable, a chuckle that resounds deep in the back of his throat and he presses his lips to Lisa's cheek, and speaks in a low voice. "I think Livie would go into hiding if she saw her, Emmy not sure, and Millie would be writing her observations."

Enjoying Jackson’s affectionate touch, Lisa’s green eyes flash at him mischievously, still bright with laughter, but looking deep into her, he can see the sadness underneath the daytime persona. "I would actually agree with you on that." She answers, and looks into his eyes and nods feeling exposed.

His smile becomes a grin, thinking that maybe everything else will have to wait. "I don't blame you." All of a sudden, his phone rings again in the silence of the cabin; he sighs annoyed by the interruption, he then looks at Lisa with an apologetic look.

Lisa watches him; her eyes are tender and she laughs slightly. "Well, you are popular tonight Mr. Rippner."

Jackson gives her a sincere smile; he reaches quickly to unclip the phone from his belt, and takes the phone, feeling every bit as frustrated as she is trying not to sound. "No, it's okay.” He turns his head and looks at the number on the phone, an odd look crossing his face. He did not want to make the fact that he knew who was calling too blatant. "As you know it isn't usually like this." He states truthfully with another apologetic smile.

"Jackson you can go ahead, its fine." Lisa replies thoughtfully, turning back to the magazine in her lap in an attempt to give him as much privacy as possible in the confined space.

Jackson smiles again, hitting the talk button, and placed the phone to his ear, as bushy brows lower slightly.” Hey, what's up?" Jackson greets the voice on the other end of the line shortly.

"Are you both on the plane right now?" The deep gruffly voice on the other end asks, pauses for a moment, and then continues. "Is it okay for us to talk?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Jackson glances at Lisa, from the corner of his eyes noticing as she is looking out of the window. "No, it's okay." He answers, rubbing his lips with the tip of his index finger.

"Good, things are going to plan, although they are wide-awake and watching me and the other car from her bedroom window through her binoculars."

Jackson’s heart stopped, as he heard the words, but keeps his expression stoic his eyes not easily readable. He knew something like this would happen. Brad is only supposed to be monitoring them and instead they had seen his employee in his car. He has never been pleased with the arrangements they had made, it is far too risky a bad idea from the beginning. He stares straight ahead, trying to remain calm his blood boiling, so not to rouse suspicion in Lisa who is now reading the in-flight magazine. He sighs and nods, It will mean changing the plan slightly, but he could do it is a smart thing to do and his a quick thinking manager It is all part of his job. "Uh huh." He says although it is nothing, trying to keep his tone of voice as normal as possible, and clears his throat.

"He is having a hard time, trying to put them to bed." The voice pauses, shuffling papers, the creaking of leather is apparent too.

Jackson can feel the irritation wells up in his chest, and filters through to his words as he speaks. "Uh huh, that's expected."

"Right, well the hit is still on for 5:30 and I will keep an eye."

Jackson replies simply, rubbing his chin with his left hand, feeling the two-day-old stubble, feeling as though it is turning coarser like sandpaper beneath his fingers. "Okay so done deal!"

"I'll do whatever I feel is necessary but do it right. Got it?"

"Got it, thanks Brad." Jackson replies in his managerial tone, with irritation sweeping over him again, but also relief.

"Good I'll be in touch soon with an update sir.” The voice says automatically in a confirmatory tone as if he said this a thousand times before, and then a moment later the phone clicked, signaling the call is over.

Jackson is exasperated, as he pulls the phone from his ear and turns it off. He doesn't have time for this shit, why couldn't he just do plan A. It was supposed to be a simple task, and back to work, having a wonderful time with his daughter’s before they go to school. Schooling his voice and expression, he gives a slight smile as he places the phone back in its place on his hip and clears his throat. "Work For the last time." He says, with an exasperated voice.

The flight crew doing their final rounds before takeoff and give the pre-flight instructions and for everyone to buckle up.

Lisa nods and hums in agreement, as he sounds particularly annoyed at having their conversation interrupted looking at the in-flight magazine, she finally looks up, to look at his profile, and notices that his gaze was still locked on the seat in front of him. While feeling slightly peeved herself that, his job is already, phoning him and wanting to take him from her. "They’re still phoning you, when you told them not to because of the funeral?" She asks, she can immediately sense a change of character around Jackson after the call, but puts it down to work annoying him.

Jackson almost laughs at the irony of her question, his gaze moves to Lisa dragging his gaze from the boring blue fabric of the chair and he smiles adding a lighthearted laugh. "Yer well I think they put a tracking device on me?" He grumbles, running both his hands through his thick dark hair, smoothing out the mess while straightening up in the chair. "It doesn't matter it's done now that was work hopefully for the last time." He looks at his wife, drinking in her features, she always looks so sad. Even when she smiles, it's as if she blockades all emotions to be more distant from anyone who tried to approach her. He hates it, and the thing is whenever he asks her, he never finds out why, but he knows it has something to do with the same feelings he has.

Suddenly, sounding like a high school principle who despises her student, the snobbish voice from senior flight attendant began to speak dully into the microphone and in a bored manner out a welcome message and the usual rehearsed flight regulations. Lisa reached into her bag and shut off her phone; well aware of Jackson's eyes following her every move. She tried, in vain, to control her shaking hands and quickly clasped her hands in her lap, her nails biting deep into her skin.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The captain's voice resounds over the intercom in a familiar robotic voice announcing their clearance for takeoff, including what his name is. He proceeds to tell everyone about his successful flights in the past. By the sounds of it, he is either trying to make everyone feel safe, or his extremely conceited, Lisa is leaning towards the second. As she predicted earlier, and as the Captain has now warned in their usual, 'try to remain calm voices, because I am the best at what I do intentions’, that they might have a little inconvenience with the weather and turbulence may possibly shake the cabin. Lisa obviously feels the exact opposite of what the pilot wants her to, and has to fight the urge to run into the cockpit, and hurt the pilot.

The flight crew does their final rounds, before takeoff, while the red headed attendant gives the flight instructions and reminders, in a monotonous bored voice from the speaker, over the whirling of the engines and the hydraulics getting the aircraft ready to move. As both of them make sure, they buckled up securely, the plane has only just begun to take off heading for the air, and Lisa grips the edge of her chair. As soon as she got her hopes up, for a turbulence-free flight, the plane starts to shake and shudder ferociously; the 767 rumbles deafeningly away from the terminal, as the rain is thundering down on the plane. Lisa can feel her hands stiffening and tightening to the armrest further, her knuckles going completely white, even as she closes her eyes tight in fear. Trying hard to block herself hearing a group of kids somewhere behind her, who are actually fucking enjoying this; seemingly agitating Lisa even more, as they start trundling towards the end of the runway as the lights in the distance, shine in contrast to the dark sky through the small oval windows. She wants to stand up; she wants to shout as loud as she can for them to stop.

The minute the plane begins to roll, and gain momentum on the runway, after a rather large and rough bump, the plane is in the air, in a weary but gratified manner, Jackson flips up his sleeve to reveal his expensive watch on which he began to turn a dial to Florida time again. As he, settles back for the ride against the cheap blue man made scratchy material they call a headrest brusquely against his scalp, trying hard to gain custody of his wife's clammy hand but failing miserably at the attempts.

Whereas Lisa exhales, while feels her heart begin to race, thumping hard against her chest, as if she has ran a marathon and her breath quickens, her hands are now tightening on her leather purse as her feet are shifting on the floor. Not feeling settled at all, like an inpatient child waiting for the school bell to ring at the end of the day, and her knuckles turning even whiter as they shake violently at the pressure of her grip. Her eyes are clenched tightly shut; her face is set in a perpetual grimace her face scrunches up causing her frown line to show, while her ears are popping as the pressure builds up because the plane is bouncing around trying to find some clean air. At the same time as this is all happening, she is quietly questioning herself in a strained voice, as she attempts to humor herself and Jackson in the process. "I was hoping we could have a nice relaxing flight, god I hate flying."

Jackson leans towards her ear to talk to her, his voice is smooth, gentle, and soothing, he can see her forcing herself to breathe and to remain calm. He thinks it will be a good distraction for her from the turbulence, if he starts talking to her about the girls and her father, as she is looking a little uneasy and he answers her tenderly while also sympathetically. "I know." He begins his full lips curl into a half smile, as he thinks about the little girls at home waiting for them to come home, and what trouble that they will have once they get to the beach. Because Rippner girls + daddy + beach = A whole lot of chaos and mayhem, waiting to happen. He knows that, what he is going to saying has to lead up to what is important to her and something she can keep her mind on. "But it won't be long, and we'll be home with the girls playing on the beach, giving your dad a break." He says, as he is finally able to take custody of her hand, entwining his fingers around hers and squeezing her fingers in return as the wheels leave the tarmac, his thumb slowly stroking the sides of her thumbs. He gradually feels her relax a little, shoulders loosen slightly, from their hunched position, but enough to indication that it is starting to work.

The plane sways violently causing Lisa to grip the armrests tighter and clench her entire body in fear, making Lisa shake her head, keeping her eyes closed, almost squeezing tears from them, whilst she is absorbing the question. She lets out a small labored groan; until she feels her heart beat decline at the pace; it is supposed to be, she doesn't answer at first, trying to concentrate on what she is about to say and fully assimilate the fact that he was touching her. After that, with one last deep breath, she slowly opens her eyes, looking at the headrest in front of her, and answers with a small smile she replies. "Sandcastles, as we try to coax Livie into the sea." She pauses as the plane gave a particularly hard jerk, a small whimper escapes from her throat and she looks away to the small oval window, at the pitch-black sky, and her own indistinguishable reflection for a second to consider her answer. She turns her head back to the front, and looks at the headrest once more, sill with a smile on her face. "Millie and Emily run around after daddy, as they try to soak you with buckets of sea water, while my dad, is worrying about us needing to have alone time."

He cannot help but smile and nods, carefully regarding Lisa, while thinking about how surprised the girls were going to be when they get home. "Livie draws a gallery worth of new masterpieces for the fridge, and Millie writes in her top secret spy diary." He bursts into a fully-fledged grin as he answers; the kind you get when you know something funny is going to happen, his lucent blue eyes sparkling with fatherly amusement and happiness. "About somebody who looks suspicious because they are sweating a great deal and stands out, or something of that kind, and Emily helping them both while playing with her princess dolls, which always makes us smile. Then afterwards yours and Emily's favorite, spaghetti at your dads for dinner. Before we put the little monsters in their beds, finally exhausted and sound asleep, so we are able to have some alone time with a bottle of wine, popcorn, and a couple of hours of TiVo."

Lisa Responds, her breathing becoming a little easier, she laughs in trepidation and in reaction to what Jackson had just said. "Yer they do, don't they, sounds like quite a day?"

As the plane gives one last tremble and then settles levelling out, she turns her head and smiles wearily at Jackson. Over the PA system, the pilot's voice drifts through as he assures the passengers they are safe. She sighs and relaxes, her shoulders dropping after the intense situation and gradually releases the death grip from his hand, she continues to smile while she thinks more clearly about what he just said; she knows her father asked Jackson the question about coming around for dinner. Since his preretirement before his permanent vacation, his divorcé to her mother after thirty–two years, he is always trying to persuade them over for dinner, so they could leave the girls with him, and have some time alone. Ever since that day two years ago, he continuously tries to get the girls to stay with him for the night and for her and Jackson to have dinner, before they do, as he always makes extra, there is always an adequate amount for everybody including a small African country. To be truthful, a night snuggled next to her husband in front of the TV with a blanket, that bottle of white wine unopened in the fridge, and a box of popcorn from the pantry, sounds like a perfect evening after the frenzied fun of playing on the beach in the day.

"Thank you for distracting me, you're always good at that." She says with an appreciative smile, the little therapy session he just put her through always really seems to be successful, a diversion that he likes to appropriately title: How to Distract Lisa, When She Is Worried about something. Which he always wins of course, and Lisa is permanently thankful for that. It seemed that she could not stop humiliating herself in front of him, and yet he was always there for her.

"Well that wasn't what I was doing exactly." Jackson says as he smiles flatly losing the magnitude of charm, he usually possesses, with his smiles. The expression still not reaching his eyes, shrugging, and his beautiful face says Prince Charming, but his voice is just as flat, while his clear eyes empty and deader than the Dead Sea and says Prince of Darkness. He pauses, pursing his lips slightly while swallowing the huge lump that has been accumulating there over the past 20 minutes, thinking about what he is going to do her and how messed up this all is. Jackson knows all about carrying guilt so does Lisa, how it can really ruin you inside leaving part of you dead and eating away at you. What that can do to a person, he does not want any more, not for a second time, they do not need the rest to be eaten away even more at their cautiousness.

Uncomfortable now, Lisa with a frown gracing her eyebrows looks at him and does not reply for a moment, subsequently, she gazes at him with frank concern written all over her features. Watching him suspiciously, as his Adams apple bobs prominently, because he is swallowing so hard. She has seen that look before, and it scared her then, as much as it is scaring her now. "What were you trying to do Jackson?"

Jackson turns his head away from her abruptly, and steals a swift glance around the plane, in the direction of the sea of exhausted and worn out people wishing he could do the same. Subsequently he stops unexpectedly when he detects someone, on his far left and furrows his brows together in complete realization. He then slowly and deliberately turns his head back to his wife, with a solemn expression on his face, starts studying her features further. The heaviness of the situation, takes place bearing down on him like a ton of weights, causing his head to hurt with the pressure. He does not want to do this, it is just he needs to do this, to stop corruption, greed, and what might happen if he does not do this. Right now, it is beyond his control, and he has to find a way to reclaim the control back, because if he does not, bad things are going to happen to his family, he does not want to see that again.

"I'm just trying to keep the focus on you, the girls, and your father." He says in a cold, toneless, and low voice, sounding colder than he intends it to be. As he lowers the tray in front of Lisa, and drops his thick leather wallet on the table. It opens without him even looking, so the expandable plastic sleeves full of pictures opens, to a picture of Joe, him and the girls who are all covered from head to toe in a multitude of colored paints, in the garden. Instead of using, the large piece of paper in front of them, the girls or more distinctively little Olivia, thought of making use of daddy and grandpa as a substitute canvas for her artings. There they all were sitting on the grass, the twins with enormous lopsided smiles, large gorgeous clear blue and green eyes looking mischievous on each of their little elfin faces, looking all so delighted of their efforts of being silly. Whilst little Olivia, with her big green eyes, looks shyly through her longish red fringe into the camera too inwardly focused seeing patterns and confusion, where the rest of humanity see the ordinariness. They had just caught her as she is about to look away and hide her face in her daddy's t-shirted chest, and she remembers how Jackson declared they're better than any hugs he thought he would ever receive from his little girl because he never believed it would happen. Jackson in the meantime cannot gaze at their cheerful little faces, which are looking up and him and Lisa, showing them as contented and relaxed. Their children have grown up with two supportive parents, who adore them to no end, and have been there every step of the way for them, and now he is wondering what their relationship, including the exquisite woman next to him was going to be like after this is all over.

Lisa stares at the photograph on show, while tears start appearing in her eyes, along with her hands wanting to reach out, so her fingertips can caress the faces of their daughters on the smooth picture as though they are here, and tell them everything is okay. After that, she looks up at Jackson, her left hand gripping the rest, while her thumb is instinctively pressing firmly on the call bell. "What are you talking about Jackson? Is everything okay?" She says as she looks him straight in the eyes, and tries to determine what he is feeling, what he means by saying all of this. She usually finds him reasonably open, sometimes he is hard to read, and this is unquestionably one of those times. They are Jackson's babies; he loves them too much to let anybody harm them. She will kill Jackson and anybody, who even try to, lay a hand on, or harms a single hair on any of their little girls' bodies.

He glares implacably severe, his face is a stoic façade, of its former self, and she has not caught sight of him like this in a while, that would be 2 years, 7 months, and 27 days ago in truth. Nevertheless, he has to; he has to make sure she knows that this is life threatening. Their world is so honest, clean, quiet, sincere like him, she believes in her job and being a good parent to their children, always giving them both her best effort. How can he tell her, how can he convey to her in a mere sentence, how bad he feels doing this to her this warm-hearted, do-no-wrong, elegant, the most consistently perplexing, perfect woman he has ever met, and he has been married to for 8 years. Somehow, he has always known that she is the 100 per cent perfect woman for him, every time he see her. He only knows that nothing is going to go as intended, and is not helping the situation, getting back the control for both their sakes is the most important thing is can do right now and that's what he is going do.

"Charles Keefe one of your regulars at the hotel, Rings any bells?" He extenuates the last part, making a popping noise with his lips when he says the B and hissing the S on bells as though pronouncing SS to make his point.

Tears fill her eyes as she turns to him; she swallows, hating how vulnerable she feels from him, being like this. Her heart is pounding, and a lump is staring to form in her throat. "No why should it Jackson, what's going on?" She sighs as she answers; she is terrified of the fear and confusion bubbling up inside of her. She has to think this through, very carefully.

"Yes it should, and that's why you need to keep listening Leese, if you want your dad and our daughters to live." Jackson clenches and unclenches his jaw before turning back to her, trying to appear relaxed before he talks again, keeping the same tone in his voice. "I know he's on his way to your hotel Leese, and I know as your husband that you have the power to switch his room." 

"Jackson I'm freelance, I'm only there to train, handle complaints, and coordinate events you know that." Lisa answers exasperated by what she has just heard, looking in his eyes, and by the sound of him, this is not the Jackson, she knows and loves. The recent booking, his team made under a secret alias, and ensured to be untraceable back to Keefe himself. Jackson should know that, working for the government all these years.

Money is never an issue for them, Jackson's career did have its benefits, and the only reason that Lisa continues to work is that if she did not, she is certain that she would simply go insane with boredom. As she has been and will always be a workaholic, although with their three little ones on the go, she is always just as busy and on her toes, along with their three kittens, and if the twins had their way a puppy too. Since the girls go to kindergarten and special schools now, she can just pop into the hotel until it is time to pick them up, or if she has to work late, then Jackson picks them up, but they always try to pick them up together. Working freelance as a General Manager on job share with her colleague Kate Thompson, she enjoys a more desirable work schedule consisting of a more traditional business day and having weekends and holidays off. This in addition means that, she has time to get the house in order, while they are at school, and she is overall managing and organizing or dealing with complaints, of hotel staff and guests. Never mind her dealing with the arduous task of doing plenty of budgeting and financial management, while furthermore creating and enforcing business objectives and long term goals, managing new exciting projects and renovations to attract more business. While also managing emergencies and other major issues involving guests, employees, or the facility, public relations with the media, local governments, and other businesses, with many additional duties to contend with. However, she is also doing something constructive at the same time, as an alternative to watching monotonous daytime TV all day full of idiotic chat shows and soaps. Because she knows Jackson would not want it any other way, otherwise she would not be the Lisa he knows and loves.

Jackson answers back, his voice still sounding relentless and extremely intense. "Well I happen to know you do baby, and that's why you need to keep listening; if you want to see Joe and our children alive when we get home." 

"Why are you doing this Jackson?" Lisa asks as she sits silently in disbelief, trying to keep her tone down, which is proving more difficult by the minute. She stares at Jackson and she cannot tell if he is concerned about her or infuriated. She does not say anything else but just keeps staring at him as though her eyes can beat the information out of him. However, she can unquestionably see the expression on his face, the air of determination, and something else in his eyes that terrifies her.

Jackson can see the frightened bewilderment on her face, and answers in kind. He can practically see the wheels in her head working as she absorbs his words. "Because I need to Leese, and it needs to be done tonight."

"Are my dad and the girls in danger?" She tries to keep her voice level, as she looks at him with steely determination. She knows he is a bad liar, and she knows that he would not do this intentionally, unless he really had to. However, why is he concerned with Charles Keefe? Why is he doing this tonight, of all nights? It has already been, a hard enough, day for them as it is, and she does not know about Jackson, but she is physically and emotional drained.

"No, not as long as you make the phone call Leese." Jackson answers with the same expression, only his voice laced with regret, worry, anger, and something else that cannot be deciphered.

Lisa has tendrils of anger and betrayal spiraled up from the knotted pit of her stomach. Jackson looks more serious, more intimidating. However, that does not matter because the safety of any mother's children are more important than how intimidating someone is, even if it is your own husband. "What's going to happen if I don't make the call?" She asks her voice thick with emotion, and wavering substantially.

"You and I bury your dad and our daughter's in a closed casket, and you wouldn't want that would you Lisa, because I certainly don't." He answers immediately, his blue showing a mixture of anger and deep sadness along with the tone in his voice. As he tries to swallow the statement, he has just announced to his wife, and the images of their little elfin faces racing in his head, along with counting Joe's into the body count and identifying their bodies.

Tears that are swarming in Lisa's vision are easy to blink away, but tries as hard as she can, to force down the thick sense of nausea that accompanied Jackson's words is much harder. "No, I don't want that, I want to talk to my dad, I need to know they are okay?" She answers defiantly although with the same deep sadness Jackson also has, and when she looks directly into his eyes. She can see a flicker, that he is repulsed by this, just as much as she is, but it will not stop her from knowing that her little ones are safe at home for now.

"Leese the last call I received from Brad, he reported that your dad was sitting in Livie's bedroom coaxing her back to sleep. While Emily is trying to help him, and Millie is looking out of the window for us, along with her collection of action figures." Jackson says, underneath the seriousness, there is a slight hesitation in his voice.

Her chin buckles, while despair floods all her senses, even as she pinches her eyes shut as tight as she can, and grudgingly lets the burning and stinging tears slide past the lashes onto her cheeks tickling them. He looks threatening to her, and she does not know what to do. She is 30,000 feet in the air, trapped between a window and her usually loving husband, who is scaring her to her very core. All of a sudden, she comes to a realization, as she quickly blinks away the tears currently stinging in her eyes, and looks back at Jackson. She asks, with traces of distress in her voice, underneath her managerial tone. "So, who is going to kill my dad, and our daughters Jackson?"

Just as Jackson is about to answer her, he stops, and notices how beautiful she looks, like a pale rose, on a picturesque rainy summer's day, with a small patch of crimson hue developing on her cheeks. All he wants to do is reach out, grab her, so he can hold her close to him, and reassure her that everything was going to be all right, they were going to get through this.

All of a sudden, like a magician, a flight attendant, the gentle African-American woman, strides down the aisle, pausing at their seats and crouches down in front of them, breaking the proceedings and the thick, intense, apprehensive, with added overused second hand air between them and Jackson's training picked up on it right away.

"Is everything okay here?" She inquires in a kind and gentle voice, looking between the couple with a sympathetic expression.

Jackson gives her an identical apologetic smile, as he holds he his hand with his wedding ring for emphasizes, feeling just as upset himself. "My wife is just a little upset. You see, we've just come from the funeral of a dear family member…" He looks at his wife expectantly, his eyes flashing a warning, indicating that they will finish this when she is gone. Lisa's eyes begin to tear up once more, ahead of turning back to the flight attendant with the same smile he had before.

The flight attendant looks between the both of them, with genuine compassion in her expression and voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She bows her head slightly in condolence, before lifting it up again and with a courteous smile. "Is there anything I can get you? Some water, tissues…?"

"Water would be great, thank you." Lisa croaks her throat instantly feeling constricted and dry, as if she is trying to swallow a mouthful of sharp nails down her throat, while with a grief-stricken smile she looks at the dark haired attendant.

"Okay, I'll get you some water and tissues. Feel better hun." She says with a compassionate kindhearted smile, which seems to radiate in her eyes, as well as her kind and gentle voice so naturally, it’s as if you are receiving sympathy from a good friend.

Lisa is still displaying a melancholy smile on her lips, for the flight attendant, waiting for her seatmate to go ballistic or say something. When the attendant finally leaves them alone again, Lisa glares at him through the curtain of her hair, grinding her teeth with pure blind venom. While Jackson seems to have a faraway look in his eyes, before he turns to her leaning close and his voice seems to have softened somewhat, but still harsh enough to get his point across. "That was great Leese, although you might want to bottle the emotions a little more okay." The words and tone sting her deep inside, causing her, to glare at him even more callously with her red and puffy eyes through painful stinging tears. She wonders if he is saying it to himself to stop the worrying thoughts going through his head, and the emotions that want to spill out, as well as for her benefit.

To the flight attendant and anyone else on the plane, the couple might look as though they are just having a bad time because of the flight, perhaps fighting even. However, no one would have guessed that Jackson and she are the only ones to know that, it is more than the upset of the funeral, or an argument that is going on at the moment; it also runs much deeper than that.

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Meanwhile back at the house, an exhausted, somnolent, and defeated looking Joe, stands by the window of Olivia's bedroom, looking out at the dark night upon the empty quiet street below. His face is full of worry, disgruntlement, wariness, and awareness, with a restless, distraught, and extremely tired Olivia is in his arms; her entire little body is tense and rigid and needy, as she clings to her grandfather's thick neck, he assumes she is upset or over stimulated. Being over stimulated hurts her, because with autism you cannot shut down all the senses, so Olivia feels, hears, smells, sees everything all at once, and it can become overbearing and too much for her to cope with. 

Holding her tightly in his arms, even as she is feeling like a dead weight in his arms, crying with fat tears roll down her round little face, along with her screams seems to have that high vibrant edge of desperation in her voice. That her high pierced shrieks knife the air, as she whines discontentedly, as if she does not feel safe and has been inconsolable for what seems like hours. She bangs her little head and tiny legs ferociously hard against him, bites, and scratches causing his face to wince in pain, but he carries on consoling her regardless. To the same extent he just continues to cares for her passionately, and never lets, any of Olivia's behaviour gets him down, just like his strong daughter and son-in-law. He tries his best to calm her down from this nightmare, rubbing her back in small gentle circles, humming, and soft calming whispers of sweet nothings into her sticky hair with his heart fills with even more hope and love. Even though he knows, she may not respond to his attention when he tries to address her, by calling her name. Aware that, poor little Olivia has been unable to sleep at night because of them, you would think throwing a tantrum would only make the noise issue worse for her. Her pajamas are soaking wet, as well as completely soiled she smells like an outhouse on a muggy July afternoon, and Joe does not know how to handle her tonight, he is having a hard time taking them off, so he can give her a nice warm bath. Which fortunately she can tolerate a small amount of bubble baths of which she seems to find soothing; making the last, few nights haven’t been so bad. Although he looks almost ready to collapse at any time, as he kisses the little auburn haired girl on the top of her head, before he whispers softly that, it is all right, that she does not have to be afraid.

Olivia may look like an average 4 year old, however she does in fact have somewhat mild special needs impaired social interaction and non-verbal communication, and by restricted, repetitive, or stereotyped behavior. In addition to, the fact she is a light sleeper, though at the moment she seems to be having bad nightmares, that she draws in her pictures only not really saying anything about them. The family believing autism should be accepted as a difference and is simply another way of being not to be treated as a disorder, while understanding from experience and copious amounts of therapy, is that the most conspicuous sign of an autistic child is the child's failure to communicate properly, nor does she truly understand cause and effect. This nearly stopped Jackson and Lisa from going on their trip, to Texas to help her mother, because they did not know how he was going to handle the situation. However, Joe persuaded them she should be fine, and it was no more than a couple of days for them to assist her mother with the funeral and attend, before the long anticipation of Olivia and the twins starting school in a couple of months’ time.

Joe hugs his beautiful paradox of a granddaughter even tighter and shuffles his feet all the way back until his back hits the pale yellow wall behind him. When her screams pierces the room again, he places a soft gentle kiss on both of her burning hot red chubby cheeks, rocking her gently in time with the curtains that are being blown by the light breeze, unsure of what to say to her, because just like her, he doesn't feel safe either.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They are sitting in heavy deafening silence, the air feeling hot and clammy; Lisa is using this time to collect her thoughts, leaving her mind to its own devices, and trying to work out in her head what is going on and the best way to work around it. Consequently, she turns to him; she’s glaring sharp pointed daggers at him with fierce and fiery emeralds that have turned sinister, a death stare that could rival Jackson’s in a staring contest. He's made the drastic and undignified mistake of threatening the girls, his own flesh and blood; this is a stare down Jackson isn’t going to win or want to win, because of the detrimental cost that lay ahead if he does. She snarls the words at him, hearing Jackson's tone in her own voice, and hopes this accentuates her point. “What’s going on Jackson, what aren’t you telling me? Because I’m going to say, go ahead with your closed casket threat Jackson. Go ahead and see what a pathetic little man you are, for betraying me, and betraying our family, for the sake of a job.” She swallows hard still keeping her eyes on him, before she continues with her justifiable tirade on him. “As well as threatening not only an older man, but also 3 little girls, 1 of which is more vulnerable than the other 2.” 

While sitting uncomfortably in his seat fidgeting, as if he is a naughty schoolchild lectured on what he has done wrong and awaiting the punishment. Suddenly making Jackson’s cold eyes now defrosted a bit and his expression softens, looking slightly more like the same way as when they had been talking at the airport. He’s worried, angry with himself, and ashamed of what he is doing, as his eyes stray to her belly, playing with his glistening metal wedding band on his left hand as though it is irritating him, in addition to fighting the urge to vomit. Whilst he thinks of how she gave him the little creatures that are at home that he has just been threatening, and that the woman in front of him, who has the right to be this way, she is the mother of those beautiful children. She needed to be worrying that her father was okay, sitting in their home reading three little excitable girls a bedtime story, and then getting them to go back to bed, not worrying about whether or not there is some creep lurking outside of their front doors. He chews his lower lip thoughtfully, working out the best way to explain all this crap to her. Knowing she is only trying to protect them; she is instinctively looking after her young. When his eyes finally look back up and see Lisa holding her ground, able to break through the act he is putting on, keeping her eyes level, and being as fearless as she has ever been before, he knows his in perpetual hell, and anything he says at this moment is going to earn him in deeper trouble.

 

Meanwhile Lisa watches Jackson, and can feel a muscle began to twitch in her jaw, while her heart is thudding in her chest, and deafeningly in her ears. She can feel, the burning hot tears starting to form in her eyes again. Frustration is an awful fear, along with her heart pounding hard in her chest, and she takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it, as she narrows her eyes, and states at him her voice is furious, consistent, and indomitable as she speaks. “I’m not stupid Jackson; please don’t treat me like a fool, because you can watch as I unleash unholy hell on you, before I get a divorce from you, and move the girls and me out of the house.” She knows that Jackson is a great husband, and an even better father, when his not threatening their lives.

Frowning perversely Jackson looks at his wife, who is looking vulnerable yet strong; his voice softens as he answers her, shaking his head and knowing the threat she has just given him is the truth. She is being serious with him; this is not to be taken lightly. “Leese I don’t think you are one. I also don’t want that to happen, I love you and the kids too much to hurt you all.” 

With her jaw beginning to shake, she has to fight to sound calm. A lone tear breaks free and runs down her greasy right cheek, like a raindrop; she catches it savagely with the heel of her hand. “Well if I’m not that stupid Jackson, and you love us as much as you say you do, why aren’t you telling me what’s going on? Why are our children and my dad in danger, huh?” She asks him, through her teeth with bitterness in her voice.

Without hesitation, Jackson answers her immediately, his voice almost too soft to be heard but had real unadulterated emotion behind the words. His eyes showing how sorry is for doing this, to her. “Leese if I could I would, but right now, you just need to keep playing along with this.”

Lisa looks at him now without any fear, she looks at him attentively, and her eyes are unblinking, right at the man in front of her, her husband. The man that promised her 8 years ago, that he would protect her and keep her and their children safe from harm. The same muscle in Lisa's jaw begins to twitch again; along with fresh anger, and she whispers to him, still trying to get this. Why does he want Keefe to change his room? What difference is it going to make? It simply sounds too weird, especially when the kids and her father are involved. “Why do you want me to move Keefe Jackson, what are you going to do to him?” 

Jackson speaks coldly and condescendingly to her, though his eyes are still apologizing for his actions. “Right now, I just want to wait for your water and Kleenex. Then we might have our privacy back and can get right back to business.” He sees Lisa’s face is now streaked with tears, and a sharp pain occurs in his chest making it tighten significantly, that stabbing guilt pain he knows very well.

The cabin is now feeling cold and eerily quiet, Jackson and Lisa say nothing to each other for the next couple of minutes, patiently waiting for the flight attendant to come and go, before they got down to business. Both of them thinking and trying to get their heads around the situation, which through no fault of their own has occurred. Looking at the phone, and then when the other isn’t looking, they take turns looking at each other’s profiles. Lisa quickly begins making a mental list of everything that Jackson does that bugs her. She glances over at Jackson, looking for extra anger-fueled inspiration. Thankfully, which to them felt like hours, the gentle flight attendant returns with a small bottle of water, with a blue label with Fresh Air printed across it in white lettering along with a packet of pocket-sized tissues in her hands. Bending down beside Jackson again, she hands them to Jackson with a small sympathetic smile, which Jackson returns in kind. He answers her softly, adding a tip of his head. It was as if Lisa wasn't there. Jackson spoke for her, making sure she didn't do anything she'd regret later, and giving her some more time to think. The attendant says something about Lisa feeling better, and if they need anything else just let her know. Lisa doesn't care enough at the moment to listen, but knows she has to keep pretences. "Thank you," she replies numbly, not really knowing why she is thanking her. 

Once she stands and smiles again, heading back down the aisle to her work uninterested and disgruntled colleague. Jackson turns to face the love of his life, and holds the water bottle in front of her, offering her a drink, knowing he needs it just as much as her. The only reply he gets is a ‘Yeah right!’ with her eyes, as she looks at him as if he is stupid, and with well-deserved mistrust. Sighing, he takes a sip himself before he puts the lid back on. He takes his time, as if he is making a point out of it, he is hopefully succeeding in giving Lisa and the agents the impression that he is truly in charge here and that he is not apprehensive about this situation at all. He can feel his anger rising, his blood boiling below the surface. How dare she insinuate that he didn't love his daughters of course he does? 

 

Back to the reality of the situation, Lisa is still giving him the death stare for dragging their family into a mess, while she licks her dry lips, and regretting not taking the water from him; however, she isn’t going to let him know that. “Who are they Jackson, and what do they have over you? How many enemies have you pissed off over the past 13 years Jackson, can you think of any off the top of your head?” She asks him, trying to keep a façade of coolness; while her heart is pounding so hard, it is leaving her breathless it must be obvious and audible even to Jackson.

He looks away from her, his eyes darting around the cabin, he didn't want her to see him lose control, even if was only for a moment. When he turns back, he looks at her dead in the eyes, ashamed and feeling guilty, as he swallows hard. “I think one or two more than I should have, Leese.” He answers her quietly sheepish, as the thought hit him like a ton of bricks; the ones he can think of are a few serial killers, rapists, pedophiles, assassins, and high-class criminals, the cream of the crop, so to speak. “I'm sorry.” He whispers after quietly also and throws in for good measure, as he places his hand on her chin gently to face him, scrutinizing her features.

That is when Lisa takes the opportunity to look into his translucent, expressive eyes again, to see truth, guilt, shame, and sadness at what he is doing is still there. In any other circumstances, she would have admired that ability, but right now, she doesn’t know what to think. “You should be Jackson, you could have told me earlier.” She replies, also very quietly with gritted teeth-- especially as she's also aware, that they're being watched. Lisa's expression softens slightly, too now. She's still mad at him-- mad as hell in fact and he can’t blame her for that— in particular for bringing their family into whatever he's gotten himself mixed up in, but she loves him. In addition, she is, of course, the all-time champion all-rounder, and the people pleaser, the one who gets things done. Leaving the two of them, to stare at each other silently, it is a tense silence between them, before he concedes.

All of a sudden Jackson leans into his wife slightly as if to kiss her, and with a soothing, yet assertive voice. He tries to explain as much as he can as his lips graze hers as he spoke, nuzzling her nose with his, with hot breathe that tickles her lips. “All right, the nearest I can tell you at the moment, and is extremely top secret. Is that Keefe is planning something big at your hotel. He’s planning something that can be seen on CNN and Fox News, which can get breaking news, to cover his tracks and attempt to boost his ratings.” 

Once again, his lips are way too close, and she is thankful when he pulls away a bit. Leaving Lisa with her jaw dropped open and a confused frowns at him, afterwards she glances over her shoulder and behind Jackson, at the people in the seat behind them, she feels physically ill looking at him. Is someone else listening to this, or was she hallucinating? “So, you are a pawn in this game also; now there's a turn of events. So what are we going to do now?” She answers softly, as though she is speaking to one of the girls at bedtime. She is trying her hardest not to punch him in the face because of the situation; and has to bite her lip and clench her fists to prevent any unwanted facial expression, or violence to slip. Thinking how Keefe was the one who ordered it. It was planned. He knew.

Jackson looks down at her hands, and can see she wants to hurt him, but knows she also wants to do something about this. “Something like that Leese, but we are going to do something, together. I unwittingly pulled you and the kids into this Leese by forcing you to make the call that will murder a man and his family; I'm not going anywhere but you realize for there to be no retribution Keefe and his family have to die? It's the only way that we will both be free.” He whispers to her, after panning his head around the cabin. 

Once Jackson is facing her again, Lisa only stares, confused and slightly afraid, but remaining strong. The bile rises in her throat at the thought of killing his family, but also the thought of her own family. “There has to be another way, now I will play along even though I don’t approve or understand for the life of me why it is, I just want your reassurance the girls and my dad are safe?” She whispers harshly back to him, sighing, while she fixes him with a relentless stare.

Jackson clears the lump in his, before his answers in a frustrated, but quiet apprehensive tone of voice, his eyes looking the same. “There’s an agent of mine watching them and I have a feeling one of Keefe’s is as well.”

Lisa frowns, her eyes showing flashes of frustration and anger, the same tone in her voice, as she wonders when all this was planned. She asks in her managerial voice, avoiding his eyes, and her fists clenched. “Is he the guy who called you at the Tex-Mex and on the plane earlier?”

 

Jackson admires her energetic, stubborn defense of herself, and their loved ones, is getting to him. She is a break from the mold, independent, opinionated, stunning, and though the operation is squared away and his men know what to do, in case of danger it is more personal. “Yes, now can we just get on with this please?” He says softly, and he realizes that something in his tone has grabs hold of her attention; by the way, she is staring at him with some astonishment in her expression. He now has the upper hand, and all she can do is stay safe and play along.

“I have one more question; if Keefe’s guy tries to touch any of the girls in any shape or form will your guy do something. Because I will personally hold you and they accountable, and you don’t want that.” She whispers, in a harsh warning tone, her eyebrows are narrow, to the point that her little frown line is showing. She takes a quick look around the dark cabin, to make sure nobody can hear, shifting slightly in the uncomfortable seat, and trying to suppress an exasperated sigh, seeing how near they are to other passengers who are relaxed, and sitting in the near-silence oblivious to the scene-taking place. The relief is overwhelming, and she takes a few deep breaths, trying to relax, prompting her to turn her head to look at him with narrowed brows and pursed lips. As she lifts her right arm up, and letting her right hands fingers run a hand through his hair, praying that, she is successfully keeping all the emotions she is feeling right now on her face.

“I know Leese, and I promise he won’t hurt them, but if he does I will personally kill him myself, just trust me Leese this needs to be done.” He looks at Lisa as the wheels in her mind turns, looking like she is calculating something in her head, trying to come up with a solution; he smiled at her then, searching her face with his eyes. He knows about her relationship with Charles Keefe – the Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security. It was always Professional as it could be; she has built a very good relationship with the politician who had a habit of never trusting any one. Her head swam as she was trying to grasp the situation.

They talk quietly, formulating a small plan, until they are able to go somewhere where he can tell her everything. She is going to play along; act scared and put an Oscar winning performance on for the agents that are on the plane watching them. Hoping that this will convince them, Jackson had never wanted to do this in the first place, there was another plan, a plan that was a lot nicer and didn’t involve the deep emotions of a trying day. Unfortunately, Henrietta died suddenly in her sleep, Keefe changed his plans three more times, and they had to hop quickly on a plane to Texas. He is just thankful they don’t have the girls with them, he didn’t want to think about them being understandably upset about their Nana, and then seeing daddy like this. No, they were at home with grandpa, in just as much danger as they would be with them. He hopes that they are fast asleep now, and dreaming of the fantastic imaginative adventures, they will be having tomorrow.

Jackson purses his lips, and with some effort sits, contemplating her small figure and what he is about to say to her. He says in a flat voice, while the blue fire in his eyes burning into Lisa. “I need you to call your hotel.” He pauses for a moment, and relaxes a little, as he is waiting for some form of a reaction almost friendly again, so sure that they are convincing the people watching them. Then he continues, in the same tone and the same emotions in his eyes. “It's very simple. Just use your managerial pull to move Keefe from thirty-eight twenty-five to suite four zero eight zero.”

As if on cue, akin to a classic Hollywood actress like Audrey Hepburn, Lisa gapes at him in shock; as tear trails freshly along her cheeks, as she attempted to speak. While she acts as though she is being held hostage so that someone would be able to get to Keefe. She has to think fast. Finally, she manages to compose the sentence that he had seen formulating in her head. She shakes her head; her cheeks are stained with slowly drying tears. “As I said before Jackson, I don't have the authority to do that.” 

Surprised by her great acting skills, Jackson with The almost-friendliness vanishing and is replaced by a terrifying expression. “Well, as I said before Leese, that I happen to know that you do. And I happen to know that you're the only voice that can get this done by the time I need it done.” He knows for a fact, that she does so much more than that. That she is in fact was in charge of the whole staff and customer relations. The hotel manager herself was sitting in front of him.

He pulls the phone forcefully out of its holder, stretching it to her. Lisa doesn't take it, knowing she will yield to his commands under his cold and baleful gaze. She has yet to piece together a plan in her head for an alternative, before she could face him, or even taking the phone from his hands.

Jackson cocks his head, his eyes boring into her. “Do you need me to write it down?” He speaks slowly, as if speaking to one of the girls when they are upset, only with more mocking to it.

Lisa swallows hard, before she manages to get the words out. “No Jackson I don’t.” She sighs as she shoots razor-sharp pointed daggers at him with her eyes, then turns her head away from him; she looks straight ahead and assessing every possible way out of this...

Jackson looks at her side profile, as she is frowns slightly, possibly thinking of a way to stop this. “Well...then, what's the delay?” He replies becoming impatient, more with the situation than with Lisa. Who is doing a great job being convincing, however he knows most of this is real too.

Lisa glances at him, through the tears that are building up again at the thought of the girls being in danger. “So, by changing Keefe's room, does that make it easier?” She questions, in a fired tone, not able to yell but wishing she could and thinking about how screwed up this whole situation was. 

Jackson sighs, and slams the phone back to its holder, harder than it needed to be. He is close to losing his temper. She was too much of a thinker, and it aggravated him to no end at this moment. Why did she have to make this whole damn job so difficult? After all, it was a simple call regarding a man she had some personal connection to, who has no qualms in getting men to kill not only her father, but also their young vulnerable daughters. He whispers half sardonically, under his breath, as he looks away for a moment getting his head together. “So where’s your male-driven fact based logic now Rippner?” 

Even though he knows he’s acting, he also knows that It is taking all her strength not to simply strike him squarely across his handsome face, if she heard the typical narcissistic such a pig-headed male chauvinism, she hears from male customers at work, but something in his words stopped her. Perhaps it is a good thing he had talked about facts and logic, even though he knows in other circumstances he would not be like this, this is just an act that she has to play along too. Although he lives with four girls in the house, and yet that is the first thing he can come up is that. He knows by now that, guys are no more logical or "fact-based" and that men drive on emotion every day, just as much as much as women do? That is when it dawns on him; he is just as afraid for his family as Lisa is and his emotions are going to drive him, more than his logic side. 

Jackson's face is now only a few inches away, she abruptly turns her face to look him straight in the eyes. Pulling a customer service face on him, one of her more powerful ones, that spells out “Bullshit,” he also should know, from long experience, that she can hand out silent dressing-downs of epic proportions. All the facts he had given to her, maybe by accident, all added to one thing.

"You're gonna kill Keefe, aren't you?" Lisa stares him dead in the eyes. One thing she is sure about is that looking into someone's eyes could reveal the entire truth about them. Moreover, from what she can see, as Jackson grinds his teeth, he truly doesn’t want to do this.

 

He looks away, let out a small sigh, before turning back to her, and answers her accordingly; his eyes meeting her eyes with intensity, she has never seen before. “You know you really need to start worrying more about your dad and our little girls, Leese.”

Lisa lets the tears dry on her face; she knows what she has to do. “How am I supposed to know they’re okay? How do I know they whoever they are haven't already done something to them?” She whispers accusingly, nailing Jackson with a fierce look.

“They’re fine Leese, as I told you before. Nobody is going to hurt them.” Jackson has a regretful tone towards the end of the sentence. They are so small and defenseless and know nothing about the dangers of the world, or the situation that they have been unwittingly, brought into. All he wants to do is go home, and give the girls a big squeeze and tell them everything is going to be okay.

Lisa says quietly, looking at him with her eyes glossy and bloodshot, and stubbornly demanding to make the phone call. “I want to call my dad; I won’t do anything until I know our children are okay!” She pleads with her eyes, and even uses the old glance-at-his-lips routine, which had worked on a few occasions. She was shooting for a spark of humanity, even if it was just a flicker of emotion in his pupils at best. She knows she has some sway in that department. 

 

Jackson watches as her mouth form the plea, as she crosses her arms over her chest and looks away again; her face is a mask of determination. “You can ring him, after you have made the phone call.” He retorts immediately, and shakes off the slight discomfort his feeling at this moment at the words he just said. It came out of his mouth as an order, which he was used to giving, not as he has wanted to say it.

Lisa turns back to him, and spits with real venom, her father and daughters are in real danger; she desperately needs to know they are okay. Lisa throws him a loathing look, her hair is a mess, and her eyes are red. “Jackson I want to call him now, I wanna know they’re okay now, or I don't call anybody.”

Jackson pressing his lips into a thin white line, he realized she was not going to give in. He also does not want to make this worse than it has to be, and in truth, he wants to know too. It is all part of the package, of being a father. “Fine, it’s your dime Leese.” He answers her in a hiss, as he glances at his watch and then back at her. 

That got Lisa’s attention, wanting so badly to hit him square in the face, as she answers him, but she knows she has to keep up pretenses, and his only doing the same. Therefore, she goes for a shaky but determined demeanor instead, and intensely glares at him, handing out another silent dressing-down, of epic proportions. You do not mess with the Once and Future Mistress of the Customer-Service Face, that spells out Not when it comes to your own kids. “That would technically be ours Jackson.” With trembling hands, all the while without breaking eye contact with Jackson, she reaches for her handbag and begins to make work of fumbling around the contents for her credit card. She suddenly clenches her teeth to prevent herself from screaming in frustration as the bag is suddenly wrenched from her lap. Thinking that they will have a credit card bill at the end of the month to pay, and it will be traceable back to them and they will end up in all kinds of trouble for just protecting their daughters and Joe. “You’re only going to be able to grab the joint credit card Jackson, you do realize that don’t you?” She says with gritted teeth, looking at him as though he should know this.

Jackson Shakes his head ignoring her, even though his only acting, she is still finding ways to dig at him. Being the Lisa he knows, and definitely loves. He Fishes around for a second, pulling out a plastic Ziploc bag full of bright colored toy cars, and placing them on his lap, shaking his head. Then digs around again, thinking about how Lisa is always ready for something, ever so resourceful, even if it is the girls and by the devious glint in her eyes at that millisecond, he knows she is planning something in her head. He takes out a small doll, next Henry the dinosaur, a small white box of buttons, a bumper pack of multicolored crayons, and 2 plastic novelty pens, one Hello Kitty and the other a Frankenstein Bart Simpson that are Emily and Millie’s, and yet they always seem to end up in her handbag. Before pulling out her leather purse and opening it pulling out a card, he ignores the PA system announcement that passengers are able to move freely about the cabin. Instead, noticing she is right, he stuffs everything quickly back in her bag, and grabs for his wallet from his inside jacket pocket, riffling through with shaky hands and takes out a credit card. Then picks up the phone and swipes the card with a loud click. He dials their number, with one hand, without even looking at the numbers, and it starts to ring. His voice is quiet and sincere, but underneath that is the paternal concern he has for the little ones at home, but his hard blue eyes look at her and said something entirely different. They are brimming with emotion, and showing her the side of him that she loves, his raw and uninhibited side. “Leese, take as much time as you need.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

In the meantime, at the huge house on Blossom Palms Lane, that has now become quiet and peaceful for the moment at least, even through the sound of the local cricket population, that are currently letting their choir sing. While inside the bedroom gentle music is playing in perfect harmony, as listening to music to cut out the external sounds because Olivia has difficulty shutting down her senses, in particular sight and hearing. A person with autism like Olivia may have to sort through both major and minor stimuli—the sound of crickets, the smell of the fabric softener on their clothes, a car driving past outside causing meltdowns. 

 

Joe is presently lying next to his newly bathed, marveling her sweet smell, and changed into fresh cotton butterfly pajamas granddaughter lying incoherent in his arms, after only what can be described as one of her bad nights, and this one topped them all. The 2 phones are ringing loud and proud, whereas an exhausted but relieved Joe ignores the things, gently holding her little body for comfort, and focusing all his energy on stroking some bright red hair away from an equally exhausted Olivia’s innocent little face. 

 

At the same time as he, bends down closer to her, being very careful not to hurt his already aching back, on top of that he doesn’t want to jostle the little girl beside him, and whispers gently into her hair, breathing in her now fresh and clean flowery scent. “Hey sweetie why don’t we get you into bed now you’re sleeping huh.” Pulling himself up a little, he settles the yellow book that he was reading from earlier, that is laying on to his knees, and looks back down at Olivia with a troubled expression, thankfully she is lost in sleep now, in her own little safe world. He deftly picks up the book that has been balancing hazardously on his knees for some time, and turns with awareness and tender dexterously to put the book, they were reading on her prettily painted white bedside table next to her star night light.

 

Abruptly the sound of a creaking door rings through his ears as loud as if it had been a foghorn, and breaks him from his thoughts, which makes him turn, to the direction of the little person who has made the noise, her eyes are shiny with tears. Just as the obnoxious ringing stops before the answer machine can take it, he knows that if it were that important they would ring again. 

 

“Are you okay Grandpa?” The young tired curious voice asks walking slowly into the room; she stands at only 3 feet tall, auburn kinky curls framing her delicate face like her mother, tousled, slightly sleep-bewildered look of a little girl who was summoned from bed, but is happy to help her grandpa. While she has inherited, her father's bright piercing blue eyes, she’s a Spitting image of both her mother and daddy. She’s more like her mother in personality although does have some traits of her father. She is very sensitive, helpful, polite, and caring towards her sisters and friends, like her mother, she is playful, exuberant, and giggly, a very social and bubbly child that loves playing with her friends, but also very bossy when she wants to be, a bright kid, who also likes her own time to read and write stories about faraway lands. What you can say, is that she is a typical five-year-old little girl, and nothing can stop her from being herself. The young girl walks further in, standing in front of her grandfather in a pink, purple, and white set of cotton pajamas, with little princesses as the pattern. She remains in between his jean clad legs, and her clear expressive eyes looks so sad, staring at him as she is holding her Princess Polly fabric stuffed dolly, gingerly twirling the dark brown soft wool hair around her index finger. 

 

Joe tries his hardest to hide the pain and tiredness in his dark astute eyes, as he runs his hand down her soft, fluffy hair and smoothes it out, as well as giving her a small kiss on the forehead. He knows she’s worried about Olivia having the utmost patience and love for her, when she's awake Emily is awake, always listening for the things that don't sound right. She’s definitely more than delighted about her parents coming home; she’s also very exhausted from the last few days fun, enjoyable, flexible activities he had scheduled for them. There is also sadness of this weekend for her Nana, the excitement of starting kindergarten in the next few months with some of her friends and almost certainly delighted in making new friends, and it seems everything is hitting her all at once. “I’m okay sweetie, why don’t you go back to bed okay, and I’ll be in, in a few minutes okay.” He answers her with a warm smile, and in a low soft voice so not to wake Olivia from her sleep.

 

Whereas in reply, Emily’s little mouth tightens into a white line as though she knows that he is holding out on her, while also looking at him for reassurance and comfort. She can also tell her grandfather is acting very weird to her and her sisters, and she doesn’t understand why. “Okay, grandpa” She answers softly and nods gently with that unnerving look that kids had when it seems like they're looking straight into your secrets, as stinging tears start threatening her eyes; she and her sisters have never been away from their mother and father for this long especially when they are the most important people in her life. She is also taking the big sister role so seriously, because she feels she has to, and she always helps her mommy and daddy with them like a big girl. 

 

Meanwhile Joe smiles at how much she resembles Lisa at that moment, she seems so grown up, because of her sisters, becoming more mature than a child her age is, although she has her moments, and it makes him so proud of her. She really is the best bits mix of Lisa and Jackson together. Because he had never thought that he would have grandchildren or that Lisa would be the one to have a family, with someone. She was always a self-proclaimed workaholic, and permanently dedicated to her job, that she worked hard going up the corporate ladder to earn the career she has now. Whenever he asked her about grandchildren, she would laugh with a wave of her hand, and tell him there was no chance that would be happening, she’s too busy to have them. 

 

That all changed when she was married to one Jackson Rippner, a man he met 9 years ago when he worked for the CIA, he and his then wife had invited Lisa and Jackson over for dinner, after hearing Lisa talk about the man she has been dating. He explained how he was trained on surveillance, and communication, for the infiltrating assignments he was sent on. From what he knows is Jackson was a fast learner and always completed assignments successfully, and made his way like his daughter, up the path very quickly with his excellent reputation and being so highly honored by the CIA’s senior management. Which made a full of pride Joe ecstatic, and would tell Jackson about his astonishing, amazing, and magnificent daughter Lisa, about her hockey days, and her promotions within the hotel, and her everything in between. He was always wondering in the back of his head, if Lisa and Jackson were compatible in real life, and not just the fantasy of them he formed musingly in his head, they seem to have the same kind of personality and interests. Only Jackson had to want to change, and learn about rediscovering his humanity, since he was a highly trained agent and killer, who underneath all this has such a warm heart and compassionate to the people, he cares about. Fortunately, he did find that part of him coming through more, and this entailed him going to therapy, learning a social new language, new words, new gestures, and new social behaviors to be able to express himself properly in society. 

 

Fortunately, the fantasy became reality, 8 years later, when Jackson was on assignment in Miami with his team, his longtime friend Chris Butler being personally involved in this decision with Jackson’s superior. Although back then, Lisa wasn’t much of a dater, even though male hotel guests asked about her all the time. Then one day, one sunny August he too asked that question and with gentle persuasion from him and her best friend Cynthia, she finally took the plunge. 

 

A year later, it made him more than happy, in complying with the young man's wishes when he asked for Lisa Henrietta Reisert’s hand in marriage, during a round of golf one sunny May afternoon, losing as usual with double bogies on each course. Remembering the phone call from Lisa, that Friday morning, hearing how he proposed to her the next day, with flowers, her grandmother’s simple, but beautiful silver and pearl antique necklace, and a shiny expensive but understated elegant 18K white gold engagement ring, with a small 1 ct. diamond and emerald that sparkled and shined. You can be sure though she accepted with some hesitation, but finally accepted knowing she had taught him how to feel human again, and how he has brought the feelings, she thought she would never feel for anybody to the surface. As his poor daughter was still in shock, trying to take everything in that Jackson had written on the card. 

 

Here we are today, his daughter happily married to a man he actually likes and gets on with, and along with 3 wonderful granddaughters, that although can run rings around him, making sure he has sucker written on his forehead, and have him wrapped around their little fingers, he would never trade, for the world. 

 

The sound of Olivia makes a small whimpering sound quietly, while she ruffles Joe’s t-shirt between her fingers self-stimming with repetitive activities involving the senses. It helps her on focusing on one particular sound may reduce the impact of a loud, distressing environment, a way to deal with stress and anxiety and to block out uncertainty. At the same time as her face is resting against her soft pillow she whimpers again softly as she buries her face further into his chest, seeking more warmth and comfort from his familiar scent in her sleep, taking Joe out of his pleasant musings, as it’s obvious she is comfortable with this. 

 

Soundlessly with his paternal concern coupled with proficiency, Joe stands up and lifts her gently on to his chest so he can get her into bed, pulling the covers back ready for her to be laid inside them. At that moment he lays her down carefully, making sure to place her in the right spot on the soft mattress, so she can roll onto her side, and curl into a little ball. Afterwards he covers her gently with the cute pastel butterfly duvet, making sure her little eyes and nose are in full view. Meanwhile oblivious to everything around her now, she continues to chew her rabbit, and ruffling her duvet between her fingers with her other hand in relaxation, or stimming (Self-Stimulation). Her heavy eyes are now beginning to close gently again, her breathing is slow and steady, and he knows she is reassured by the vanilla scent he put on the fur earlier. 

 

At the same time as doing so, Joe smiles tiredly, knowing Olivia is almost certainly as excited as her older sisters are about going to the beach. Moreover, how much she missed her parents these last couple of days, and not sleeping properly without her parents these last few days, because her sleep routines during the week and the weekend have gone right out the window. “I know you’re excited about tomorrow sweetie, but you need to sleep. Mommy and daddy will be home soon okay.” He says looking down at his youngest granddaughter with a smile, and speaks softly even as he’s stroking her hair back from her face gently. 

 

The phone starts ringing again, interrupting them along with the ambient quiet of the house, that has taken a while to restore; Joe looks over at Emily, who is now standing at the door patiently, hugging her dolly closer to her chest, with a worried expression on her little cherub face. “Emmy precious, why don’t we get the phone it might be mommy and daddy. Now then, where is that phone?” He says a little louder, but using the same soothing tones so not to worry the little girl in his arms. 

 

He gets up from the Olivia’s bed cautiously, and walks carefully on the soft carpet muting the sounds, over to the door to his oldest granddaughter, bending down in front of her, and smiles for her, brushing some fresh tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and kisses the tip of her nose. 

 

Subsequently gently lifting her up, at the same time as she kicks her legs and spreads her arms out, as if she is a plane, while her dolly dangles, she then wraps her little thin legs around his waist. He squeezes her snugly and securely against him, his bristled cheek is against her hair, his eyes ever so watchful; automatically he’s monitoring the shadows all around them. Whilst carrying Emily on his hip, as she moans softly, but her protests are short-lived he rubs the back of her head gently working his way down gently to her back where he pats her back soothingly and rhythmically. 

 

Emily meanwhile caresses his stubbly cheeks with some tresses of Princess Polly’s hair, sticking them inside his nostrils, with a small frown on her forehead with huge questioning blue eyes, and tears on her cheeks. As he, slowly walks across the dark wooden flooring quietly, making his way through the hallway, the walls are filled with hanging pictures of the family taken by both Jackson and Lisa through the years. As well as the artistically modern, colorful, expressive, with beautiful arrays of design, enchanting, and sophisticated prints they have also brought over the years by modern artists, still walking on his way towards the ringing phone. 

 

Once he gets to the small wooden table between Lisa’s bedroom and the spare bedroom, that the phone is set on, he swiftly without any delay in the movement pulls the phone from the base, and with his free left hand and answers the phone. This is while Emily is watching her grandfather attentively, inquisitively, and watchfully on the phone, afterwards her eyes start glancing back at her little sisters to see if they are okay. Her delicate little pink painted fingers are playing with her fabric dolly’s hair again, while she chews her bottom lip, her eyes look ever so thoughtful and heartbreaking. Which makes Joe looks at her with deep sorrow, he knows that she knows something, and as always looking after her little sister’s but that doesn’t stop him from worrying. “Hello?” He enquires into the receiver; the tone of his voice is dubious with a hint of annoyance, still looking at his oldest granddaughter forlornly, wishing he could put her back to bed with these interruptions. 

 

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Back on the plane, Jackson sits with his head resting against the headrest, his eyes scanning the plane, while his mind is ticking over strategic idea for the situation him and Lisa are in. Because thing are already complicated, and now there could be more ahead. Jackson rubs his forehead, but remains calm as he turns to look at her, his face also displaying the same worry and fear, and determination. Thinking that they will know what he might try. They know everything about him and his methods. However, they do not know what lengths he will go to, in order to save his family. No one knows that.

 

However, Lisa knew as soon as those words left his mouth, that he was planning a way to get out of this. The only problem is no one is answering on the other end, usually the girls were eager to answer the phone and so She sits and her fingers tapping the side of the phone in the rhythm of the ringing, while her face is expressing fear and worry for the people on the other end. Leaning next to Jackson so he can hear as his thinking, Lisa is relieved her father has finally answered the phone. Having to dialed their number twice, and worried that one of Keefe’s men has hurt them. “Dad is everything okay?” She calls as soon as she hears an answer; Jackson looks at her concerned by what he hears, as they haven't spoken another word for several minutes.

 

Her father asks, sounding confused, quite distressed, and somewhat exhausted tone of voice. “I can’t sleep, and Olivia woke up crying and throwing one of her temper tantrums, so I’ve been trying to calm her for the last hour or so, but she’s sleeping now. I’m just getting Emmy and Mills to do the same thing, which is proving an even harder thing to do at the moment, than I originally thought.” 

 

Lisa tries not to smile at her father, the fact that Joe Reisert is trying not to sound frantic and yet worries far too much, her dad so strong and alive, infectiously funny and in spite of that can be so serious, incredibly intelligent, and extremely compassionate. Her face brightens a notch at the thought of seeing Emily, Millie, and Olivia again, guilt, and the terrible feeling of something being irreversibly done to them, makes her insides churn. She knows her husband is listening meticulously, and he can hear exactly what her father’s voice is saying on the phone, because she has no doubt in her mind, he is most definitely wondering the same question in his mind, and is equally, as eager as her to know they are okay. He is OK. That sounds so much like her Dad. It sounds so normal, that Olivia had her nightmare, and the girls are excited and wide-awake waiting for them to come home. That it gives her a sense of strength, to know that they are all right, although her father does sound exhausted, and in need of a well-deserved rest. They will have to take it from here; they have to come up with a plan for now. “Did she have another nightmare again?” The thought, causes the happy look on her face quickly fade, as she wonders if it was the same one, she has had the last couple of nights, which have caused her to scream for hours before being able to get settled. Instead, she can feel the guilt of leaving her father alone with the girls; it’s too much, especially dealing with the matter of Olivia’s nightmares, which she guesses by the sound of his voice, was a particularly bad one.

 

“Yes, honey but calmed finally when I was able to give her a nice warm bath, she took a walk around the living room, and she was able organize her buttons, I even added some vanilla onto her rabbit, but everything’s okay here now.” He says, voice more tired, and sounding as though he could do with a bath and a lie down himself. 

 

Now he is speaking with open, cautious fatherly concern in his tone like always. She can hear him struggling not to pry, not to sound overly protective, and imagines he has one of his questionable look on his face, with his brows furrowed because really he is trying to look out for them, and guard them all from danger. “Honey I know you don't like it when I ask, but are you okay, you kinda sound upset?” 

 

Upon hearing her father’s question, Lisa starts shaking her head at what she is hearing, because she refuses to think of herself as weak, as if she’s someone to worry about. Tears immediately start building up in her eyes again. Subsequently they start to fall uncontrollably, and she is sure her father can hear that she is crying as she answers him. “I’m fine dad, we were just late taking off and –and there’s some turbulence on the plane. We’re just worried about you and the girls, we were sure they were going to be little pests tonight.” He shouldn't have to be worried about these things. However, he is her dad and she knows that he will go across the world for his only daughter. The same can be said for Jackson, who deep down is such a cute, although intimidating, and very protective daddy.

 

Joe says warmly, with a little gruff laugh. “Well you’re right about them being pests, but are you sure you’re okay honey?”

 

“Yes, dad I’m sure.” She replies with somewhat automatically, with an enormous smile, thinking about their little girls being the little creatures they are. Knowing their best laid plans for consistent bedtimes, and happy sleep routines during this week and this weekend they have been away, has gone right out of the window, turning their once-champion little sleepers, into 3 very cranky bedtime refusing monsters. “Did they cause you any trouble?” She clears her throat, while she uses the palm of her other hand to wipe the tears away from her reddened cheeks, naturally fidgeting to make herself comfortable for the conversation ahead. “What are our little girls doing?”

Joe yawns tiredly as he answers his daughters, very familiar and understandable questions, sounding exhausted. “Nothing too exciting, just the twins waking up every hour hoping you will be home soon.” A slight pause, she hears him whisper something, before he answers again, with a small chuckle. “I think they’re more excited about seeing you both later this morning, than the beach. I know all the girls have missed you both terribly.” Then his voice turns serious. “Is something wrong?” 

“No dad, it’s just Mommy and daddy miss them too and we are so proud of them, that’s all, and I can’t wait till later either.” Lisa Smiles in relief, she knows that they are too young to handle this kind of stress.

The line is silent for a long minute, before Joe’s deep voice appears again in a concerned tone again, as he asks the question. “Is Jackson okay honey?”

 

Lisa lets out a deep sigh, before she answers him, her heart beating against her ribs. She can feel Jackson watching her, shooting her a worried warning glance, to say be careful what you say to him. She glares back at him, wondering if he knows how much it flare up her temper, the tone, the glance. “Yep, he is sitting here, right next to me; and is listening intently, in need of sleep.” She says, with a calmer voice, than her glare at Jackson. 

Joe chuckles again, but sounding even more tired than before, as he answers his daughter. “Okay, well he needs to rest for tomorrow; I have a feeling it’s going to be quite a day.” There seems to be a slight hesitation, before he speaks again. “So, I’d better let you go I'm sure you're both tired and want a sleep before coming home to the girls.”

Lisa takes a deep breath, and then slowly releases it. She is just tired enough to feel a pang of homesickness at his last words and the mention of their little girls. She sniffles, fighting back the tears that are building up in her sore eyes. She can imagine him leaning casually into a doorframe of Emily’s bedroom, smiling tiredly, looking about ready to collapse. “Like you should do dad, but really, its fine tell me everything?” She says, smiling through her tears.

 

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Still on her grandfather’s hip, as he speaks on the phone, leaning against the ivory painted wall for some much needed support. A rather squirmy and excitable Emily tugs at the front of her grandpa’s green knit sweater, with some force, desperately wanting to speak to her mother, who she misses a lot. As the sleeve of her pajama top falls, showing the pretty strands of the colorfully pastel beads and threads that envelopes the little girl's arm. While she blinks her, big clear blue expressive eyes, which look like huge saucers up innocently at her grandpa, who reaches up to tuck a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. “Can I speak to mommy please?” Her little sweet voice asks, her eyes filling again and looking close to tears, even as she wipes her nose with her hand. 

 

Before reaching the pink delights of Emily’s room, Joe smiles down at his auburn haired granddaughter, reassuringly hoping his daughter will agree to have a little chat. He knows if Emily and her sisters had their way, they would be on the phone with their parents all day, running up a huge phone bill. “Leese honey, Emmy wants to talk to you?” He asks his daughter, using their pet name for her, and hopes hearing the sound of her mother’s voice, will be just enough to coax her to go back to sleep. He then kisses the top of her head, a knowing smile playing on his lips. It’s going to take three hours to get their twin daughters settled enough to sleep. Normally, they would be in bed by now, sound asleep, and then up at dawn. 

 

“That’s fine dad.” She says in tender tone, along with a knowing chuckle. 

 

“Sure honey, she’s here.” He says thankfully, with a small laugh, putting the phone to her ear, she looks up at her grandpa smiling happily. He takes a quick peek into Millie’s room, where she is still sitting on her knees, looking out of the window, and he smiles tiredly. He knows that Millie is going to be the hardest to convince, to get back into bed and he is definitely not looking forward to it, when it simply can't be avoided.

 

“Hey sweetie, how are you?” She asks, her voice radiating cheerfulness, underneath though there is some sadness trying to break through.

 

In the meantime, an exhausted Joe continues to carry her inside the pink princess wonderland, where beautifully painted ornate fairies are hanging by white string from the ceiling, and dance to the rhythm of the light breeze and while dreamlike ones float gently on the softly painted walls, from her nightlight. Emily talks into the receiver in a somewhat loud pronunciation, with uncontrollable fits of giggles and grinning from ear to ear, as Joe uses his large fingers to tickle tortures mercilessly on her belly, squirming and making little squeaks of delight, as Joes has found her most ticklish spot. Afterwards in victory, he brings his lips on to her right cheek, to blow a raspberry, causing her giggles to become louder full-blown laughter. “Hello mommy, I’m okay!” She says, with a huge beautiful smile on her little face, in the same way as her eyes brighten significantly with joy, looking as bright and cheerful, much like her mother.

 

“You need to go back to bed after this young lady, otherwise you won’t wake up in the morning.” Lisa’s voice is now sounding soft, but with a little more quiet authority in her tone knowing the girls only understand that dark is nighttime, and light is daytime.

 

Joe Looks down and kisses Emily cheek lightly, as she is still giggling. Then smoothes her hair, and whispers something in her ear. Meanwhile Emily lays her head on her grandfather’s chest, and whispers a little louder into Joe’s chest, nodding her head for emphasis, as she looks down at her feet. “Okay mommy, but I’m not tired.”

 

Taking a quick glance at his youngest granddaughter still happily fast asleep now, since she hasn't slept on her normal schedule for a couple of days in a row, and so ends up waking up early each morning. Joe smiles, after that, he turns back and watches as Emily rubs her heavy eyes, nearly falling asleep in his arms, and maybe be able to benefit from a little downtime himself. However, being like her mother by staying determined to stay awake, and carry on talking to her mommy on the phone. “Good girl.” He whispers, before he kisses her on the cheek and putting her down on the soft carpeted floor by her pretty 4 poster princess bed, followed by Joe walking behind her, pulls the covers up on Emily’s bed, while she grabs her dollies from the princess bedside table, and Joe signals for her to get in. Emily still talking away to mommy happily, holding her dolls in one hand, with a massive bright grin and more giggles, she somehow willingly summons the energy and leaps into her bed, hair swishing back and forth behind her. Forever surrounded by her collection of dollies, fairies, and stuffed animals that are presents from her parents and grandparents, being ever so watchful. With a beautiful majestic dollhouse in the corner by the window, while her pretty dolls are set up in various positions all over the house, showing it is she obvious that she plays with it a lot. She then blinks her big blue eyes up innocently at Joe, who is folding the covers in tightly all around her; and Emily bunches up the covers while her hands are playing with her Barbie dolls.

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Leaning against the headrest, and watching her husband as he too is watching her. There is stillness in her expression, as much as there is in Jackson’s. Taking the phone away from her ear slightly, Lisa turns her head back to face the headrests, and can hear the commotion, making her smile, the real smile only reserved for a select few, and more tears welling up in her eyes. She loves the little voice on the end of the phone, as she thinks; she is so much like me. Lisa knows she is still refining the fine art of conversation, though. For Emily and Millie, the talking part is not a problem; it's the listening part they need help with. As they’re unsure on how to get, and keep your attention, however they butt in as needed because they'll forget what they want to say if they don't spit it out quickly, and therefore they keep going whether or not you're listening and responding. While she doesn't want to discourage her oldest daughter from talking, it is time now to clue her into conversational etiquette. 

 

When she bring the phone back to her ear, Emily’s giggles have quieted down somewhat, and so takes the chance to speak again. “Is everything okay sweetie, what are you doing up this late?” Her voice comes out a half octave too high and she has to clear her throat, as she swears colorfully inside her head. While also letting her knows, that she needs to turn the conversation, as she needs to say something. Looking back at Jackson, she notices that he has an absolutely, sincere worried smile on his lips.

 

On the other end, she can hear the short pause, as Emily thinks about that for a minute, and then she replies again to answer her mother’s question. “Yes mommy, I can’t sleep, and we miss you lots and lots. Me and Millie are helping grandpa protect Olivia when she waked up; she had a bad dream and she cry.” Her heartrending voice comes out strangled and choked, and Lisa imagines that her eyes are filling with tears, giving the impression that this was an often-repeated reply. However, she knows the little girl on the other end of the line, doesn't know what is going on, but she knows that something is bothering her mommy. It's amazing how perceptive children are when it comes to their parents, particularly their mothers. 

 

“Why are you crying mommy?” Emily’s little sad voice, questions her mother sadly.

 

Lisa mentally giving the little girl a big hug, she is such a wonderful caring little girl and so like her. Her concern growing, with the words that came from his daughter's mouth. Emily is only five, but somehow at this moment she strikes to Lisa, as being so much older, knowing she is wondering if has done something wrong, that has hurt her mommy. As another tear breaks free and runs down her cheek from her red swollen eyes, she searches for the right words, before she answers her daughter trying not to sound upset. “Hey sweetie, we miss you all too, we are just very tired that’s all, and we can’t wait until tomorrow either.” At the same time as she listens with a motherly look of concern, as Emily races through what she did to help grandpa, the bracelets they made for them both as a present, the pictures they drew, and how much she and her sisters miss them she now manages to say in a perfectly normal tone of voice. 

 

Lisa turns her head and sees the look on Jackson’s face; she indicates to him that their little girl is okay, with a small smile where her lips are pressed in a thin line. Not sure if she is reassuring him, or herself very convincingly. Before she turns back and looks out the window, looking out at the dark sky, trying to contain the burst of laughter building in her chest but feels her lips twitching. Her eyes go a shade grayer: as she tries to listen to their daughter seriously, even though her dimples are evident. She thinks how life is worth living, with the three little monsters, with balls of energy, that they don’t know how they always keep up with them in it, and no one is going to take them away from her. “Wow, you all had a very busy evening huh, and did a great job sweetie; daddy and I look forward to seeing them.” She answers, enthusiastically, although she can feel the panic slip into her voice slightly.

 

Emily asks innocently with a sad tone in her small voice, sounding so much older than five year olds do. “Where’s daddy, is daddy okay?” 

 

Lisa lets out a small laugh, and with a soft smile, and answers her daughter trying not to rouse suspicion, however her first instinct is to say ‘awww’. “Yep, he’s sitting right next to me sweetie, and missing you all so much.” 

 

“Can I speak to daddy please?” She asks in the sweetest voice and sounding, as though she has undoubtedly wanted to ask the question during the whole conversation and the night, because at five years old, thinking about herself is foremost still dominates your child's thinking. However, with Emily this is not the case, and is probably just very worried about him, like she is for mommy.

 

Making Lisa smile at the little voice on the other end of the line, while thinking about what a good dad Jackson is, even though right now she wishes at this moment, she could punch him in the face. “Of course, you can sweetie.” She says happily, trying to keep a normal and reassuring tone to her voice, as she turns her head to the side to see Jackson, who is already looking at her shaking his head, making his hair whoosh on the side of his cheeks, and holds out his hands, whispering “no.” That is when, she narrows her eyes, and hits him with a certain looks that says, "You will speak to our oldest little girl, oh Mr. International Man of Mystery. You will make it convincing, or there WILL be a doghouse in your future and it will not be you just building it for the puppy either." Hoping, the Expression in her lovely green-gray eyes that will snap him back, with a vengeance. While thinking she might spring for one of those dandy-big cushy dog beds for the puppy. Consequently, Jackson can only look on yearningly, from his spot curled up on the hard decking floor.

 

Suddenly Jackson feels as though his heart has stopped, instantaneously making him lose his breath. As he takes the phone cautiously from Lisa outstretched hand, watching from the corner of his eye wearily and petrified, as she is still staring at him with that glare unwaveringly, and can't help at that moment the thought: God, she's too good at that. Attentively he puts the phone to his ear, and can hear the sound of Emily’s sweet little chirpy voice; it snaps him back into the moment, which he knows what Lisa wanted to happen. His voice is soft and smooth, as if nothing has happened for the past hour or so, and uses his pet name for her. “Hi, how’s my favourite princess?” He says, with a large smile, the same one he had at the Tex Mex, as he imagines that her little cherub face has now lighted up the whole eastern seaboard like her mother’s does when she is just as happy, with a large cheeky, lopsided smile on her face. The image making him so badly wants to scoop Daddy's little princess up into his arms, he knows his little girl is probably wearing one of her favorite pink princess pajamas. As he swings her, up above his head, while she breaks into uncontrollable fits of giggles loudly, and her bright clear eyes are sparkling mischievously.

 

“I’m okay daddy!” She exclaims excitedly and loudly down the phones speaker, as if it is a megaphone. 

 

Listening to his daughter talk, his expression is patient and neutral focusing all of his attention onto his eldest child. “Are you sure you’re okay sweetie, why are you awake, and not asleep in your pretty princess bed?” Jackson asks the question that every parent asks excitable children, his voice gentle, but he can feel the restlessness in the muscles of his lips, as he slips into his fatherly instinct. All of his little girls are daddy's girls through and through. He will deny them of nothing that, which they want. They are such a perfect combinations of him and Lisa, that it takes his breath away every time he looks at them.

 

He can hear, as Emily tries to answer normally, but her tiny usually joyful voice comes out somewhat strangled and choked, which is not normal for Emily, even when she is awake at night sometimes helping them with Olivia. “I’m not sleepy daddy, I miss you lots, and Olivia waked up crying, I helped grandpa.”

 

While listening with concern and dread to his little girl, as she continues talks away about how she helped grandpa like she helps them comfort Olivia, he frowns at the tears suddenly stinging his eyes, and then he doesn't succeed very well in hiding them, and has to looks away. He quickly turns his head away, stares forwards at an imaginary point of interest along the headrests of the seat in front of the settled down cabin expressionlessly, and drags the heel of his right hand roughly across his eye socket. “Oh, I see pumpkin, and Millie is she awake too?” He asks, trying hard to keep his voice in a normal, calm tone and wonders if her rambunctious twin sister is awake too, writing in her spy diary, and being an absolute miniature of himself at that age.

 

Now Emily’s voice sounds even smaller, frail sounding, while underneath her words, there is some uncertainty, and worry, all traces of earlier chirpiness has evaporated. “She misses you and mommy lots and lots too; she is looking out of the window with Jasper and Rufus. Millie said that there are cars outside, and they are not allowed to be there.”


	7. Chapter

Chapter 7

Jackson smiles easily, although his shocked blue eyes are portraying pure alarm, and he is trying his hardest to keep up the façade, rubbing one of his hands over his face and fighting the urge to vomit. The bile rises in his throat at the thought. How is he going to tell Lisa? He thinks about his little girls. About their big brilliant eyes, their gorgeous smiles, their innocence in this whole mess, Millie and Emily are just being the protective big sisters they are, and he won't let them touch his little girls. Neither mentally nor physically, he'll never let them touch the beautiful little girls he and Lisa created, nor will he show his violence in front of them. It makes him wonder if this can be true. Part of his mind saying, “What she had said cannot be true, she must have dreamt it.” He wishes sorely that is just a dream that he is having right now, that he could just wake up from this, and everything was back to normal. Suddenly in cold realization, 

Jackson can now feel the man in seat behind him, his dark sinister eyes on them, as they are talking to their oldest daughter on the phone; maybe they aren't convincing enough for him. Jackson thinks as he wishes he could turn and look at him, so he can see the aura of violence and the death in his eyes, to know that he and his team are in terrible danger from the could-be demon in their midst, on a one-way ticket on the Hurt Train. His reputation, his contacts, and his support network: anyone touching his family will be LUCKY to get off with simple torture and a slow, agonising death. It will be like Dante's Inferno HARDCORE: The Stuff Too Gruesome for Hell.

Coming out of his dark thoughts, Jackson takes the phone away from his ear for a moment, and gathers his thoughts. Reaching up, and gently smoothing the hair away from his left temple. He breathes in more deeply, letting the air fill into his lungs, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Immediately he feels calmer; his heartbeat is starting to become as slow and steady as his breathing. Before, he places the phone to his ear again, and listens for a second to his daughter. "Sweetie, can I speak to grandpa please?" He says in a softer tone, interrupting her from her worries, the fingers on his left hand tapping methodically on the fabric of his left thigh. 

Rather than using the tone he is thought, it might be, however this is his daughter he is talking to, and he doesn't want to scare her any further, and nevertheless he is still too much in shock. He is both heartbroken and angry by the fact; that she has just mentioned the cars being there and his middle daughter is without doubt watching them from her bedroom window.

When he hears Emily let out a small sad sigh and is about to cry, that's when the weariness and tender reluctance seems to weight on him further, keeping him on the phone talking to his little girl. His fatherly instincts are telling him to: Stay on the line with her, until you are certain she is relaxed and feeling safe enough to fall back to sleep. While his professional instincts are saying: You have to leave her, she’s safe enough with Joe, and you need to talk to Joe.

He looks over at his wife, and sees the fear on her as well as quiet determination on her face. Her eyes are shiny with tears, watching his face so very closely, yet she isn't staring, she's asking him silent questions that he cannot answer right now. Too much has just come pouring, into their lives all at once. He knows she needs him to make her feel safe, to make her feel like their children are safe. He knows that her stomach is going to be twisted into knots when he tells her, what Emily has told him about the people skulking outside their house, while her kids are there sleeping. However, he is brought out of that thought, when he can hear Emily ask him about what time they will be getting home.

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Upon hearing his granddaughter’s question, Joe turns from the large window, where he has been staring out at the non-natural darkness for the past two or so minutes, where only a sliver of moon is visible and all the stars are missing from the sky. In contemplation, exhaustion, dissatisfaction, and frustration, he puts a hand onto his face; and rubs his callous fingertips up under his glasses and along his eyelids. His eyes are red and cannot believe his ears, he can barely stomach the words that have just come out of his oldest granddaughter’s mouth, and the urge to vomit, seem like a rather appealing idea. As he sways slightly on his feet, swirling thoughts, and images like waves of muddy water and he’s exhausted before he’s even talked to Jackson about this, and able to console his granddaughter who looks so tiny and fragile in her bed. The sight of the little girl, and the disturbing thoughts, makes him shiver in spite of the warm night, freezing deep into his marrow and he can't move. He has to close his eyes and presses his lips together into a thin line, with his head is bent, and he is trying relentlessly to steady himself against the windowsill, taking a second, without alarming his granddaughter. Before he looks up with heavily lidded eyes, pries his fingers that are tightly curled around the windowsill; and quietly walks over to her on the soft pastel pink carpet, and sits down on the bed glad for the support, next to the young child with a forced smile on his face. Watching her cautiously, as she talk further to her daddy, with a heartbreaking smile and her usually stunning translucent eyes cast downwards, playing with her Barbie dolls, in a rather unusual manner than she usually does. It’s as if they know they are being watched the whole time, as she has pretty purple dressed one with matching shoes, whispering in the pink dressed ones hair covered ear. He feels awkward watching her play with her Barbie dolls like that, and he doesn’t want to interrupt her at this moment, for the reason that he is fearful of toppling her already frail control and he doesn't like making her say goodbye to her father. Not with his grandchildren, but something he doesn't want to get into right now, it still needs to be done at this moment, especially when they are all in serious danger. 

Thinking of his next move, he turns his head to glance out the window to the blackness and the few twinkling stars outside, his bushy brows furrowed, and his forehead creased intensely like caverns. He lets out a loud exhausted sigh, and then looks back at the little girl in his arms still hiding her face in his sweater, her hair gorgeous auburn hair sticking to her red wet cheek. Joe kisses the top of her head, bringing up a large hand; he gently brushes some of her hair behind her ear. "Emmy honey, let me talk to daddy please." Joe asks, in a calm tone of voice into her hair, well as calm as it can sound, without alarming her with his own panic, irritation, and sadness he feels right now.

Again, Emily sadly and defiantly shakes her head fiercely for emphasis, Joe smiling inside because she is looking like her mommy, concomitantly her beautiful shiny auburn curls bouncing as she does so. At the same time, as she moves her lucid tear filled blue eyes upwards, and looks up at her grandpa, with a little frown on her pretty little round face, while her little mouth is tightened into a tight white line. Letting him know that she doesn't feel safe. She wants her mommy and daddy; her mommy and daddy always make her feel safe.

Tapping her right foot in anticipation, the sound of the heel thudding dully on the carpeted floor, although sounding excruciatingly loud to Lisa, who is still listening in, while her head and shoulders are right up against the seat, and she can nonetheless hear most of the commotion that is on the other side of the phone.  
While Jackson listens closely, to the rustling of the handset being rubbed against Emily's soft hair, which means she is shaking her head again. Meanwhile, he is at present using the fingers of his left hand, to ruffle the fabric of his suit pants, in worry and concern for the little creatures and his father in law at home, he knows is feeling the same way he is.

He understands why she wants to talk to him; she and her sisters miss them terribly, and on top of that, they don't feel as safe, as they should feel. All he wants to do is, put his arms around her in an attempt to make her feel safer.

Jackson turns his head slightly, focusing his tired eyes more closely on Lisa's profile, and knows Emily is just being as strong, stubborn, and frightened as her mother is right now. Furthermore, just like her mother, she is trying to protect her younger sisters. Nevertheless, there is also the excitement of seeing them both tomorrow, exhaustion of the fun and exciting weekend they have had with Grandpa Joe, anticipation for making a scrumptious disorganised breakfast for them. While also thrilled and overexcited about going to the beach to play, eagerness for kindergarten with some of her friends and meeting new friends, and all the fun they will be having all mixed into this.

"Emmy sweetie, I really need to speak to grandpa too. And It's way past time for good little princess fairies to be sleeping, right?" He says gently in a soft comforting voice into the speaker; however, there is some authority mixed in. Unfortunately, it isn't a question, but a command and he realizes that it sounded much harsher than he intended it to be. Instinctively Jackson has deliberately said this, trying to use the same voice he uses when she and her sisters have a bad dream, being gentle Jackson usually locks his eyes with theirs, forcing them to look at him. Because their breathing isn’t calm, and they seem to be lost in their own head, distraught, sad, sobbing, and very disturbed so he unconsciously massages slow circular motions at their necks with his thumb, and wishes he could do right now. Which he guesses the nightmares will be happen later on this morning, exasperated he sighs in fatigue and knows it is going to be a long flight, and he may have just upset his daughter further. He knows he has to hold it together, as he always does, but it’s getting harder by the minute.

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Once Emily hears her daddy say that, she automatically knows it's time to go back to sleep, her father only says things in that tone when they are very naughty or something is wrong. She looks at her grandpa with her blue eyes shining a little, seeing him as a blur through her tear-filled eyes. Her expression is as though she has said something wrong, and is scared of getting into trouble with her grandpa and daddy.

"Am I naughty grandpa?" She inquires in a quiet, with worry present too, sounding choked voice, and blinking back tears, as a lone tear runs down her cheek. While she asks both her daddy down the speaker, and grandpa the question, worried that she has said wrong or bad things, at the same time her brilliant bright blue eyes are cast downward with a little frown, staring fixedly at the pretty dolls in her hand, she looks endearingly innocent, bewildered, and incredibly exhausted. 

That's when Joe shifts closer to her, and gathers her tiny body up in his arms, and gently rubs her cotton covered back, while the little girl presses her face into his sweater starts to sob softly, as the small whimpers burning in her throat, and she listens to her father, intently on the phone. From long time experience of being a father, Joe knows that she is listening to his heartbeat slowly, and is finding comfort when her father’s voice hums in her ear through the speaker. All he is trying to do is to keep her calm, if that is even possible at this point, he kisses the top of her head gently; his nose dipped in her hair breathing in her shampoo, and can smell his daughter's fragrance, as a small sad smile is developing on his lips. Obviously, Emily had an adventure in mommy and daddy's room earlier tonight, pretending to be mommy for a little while, wearing mommy’s clothes, shoes, and perfume, while her dark haired playful twin sister did the same thing, and pretended to be daddy. He'll have to remember to check their bedroom later, but right now, all his concentration needs to be on her.

"No sweetie, I just need a little chat with daddy that’s all." He answers softly with a small smile, as he pulls away slightly, and watches as the little girl nods softly to his words, putting the phone down on the light pink cotton duvet with a small sigh. Even as, she is putting her Barbie dolls, carefully on the bedside table, beside her silver, pink, purple, and sparkly crown and wand, her pink and white Disney fairy clock. Next to her pink, purple, and yellow lamp, is a medium sized pink and purple fairy frame, with a picture taken by herself of everybody dressed in warm clothing, cuddled together on an old hollowed out dead branch in the forest smiling, is inside. As well as her favorite Princess books Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, which have been read at least a thousand times this week alone, for comfort and familiarity. 

This is followed by her gently tugging gently at the white, pink, and purple wings, decorated with pink, iridescent white, purple, and silver sequins, with colorful beads and fluffy trim in matching colors, and of course plenty of glitter, that is always strapped to her back. That is right now seems to be sparkling and dazzlingly brilliantly, reflecting the dim light coming from the pretty fairy night light on her bedside table, whilst the pretty wings are hanging from the right wooden bedpost.

In this moment, he can't tear his gaze away from her little elfin face, because her eyes are like large saucers, her lips and little chin are trembling. She wipes her little hands across her watery eyes, and sniffles a little. Afterwards, she picks up the phone, and continues talking a little more cheerfully, as he carefully moves the flimsy prettily decorated piece of costume, away so she doesn't knock it, with one of his large wrinkly hand, concurrently Emily's eyes follow every movement, her eyes so huge, translucent blue and expressive, just as they are shining with her innocence.

"Okay grandpa, I need to rest my wings, mommy and daddy needs lots of rest too.” She chirps quietly, recovering quickly from being upset she blinks the tears from her eyes and takes a deep breath; followed by her nodding obediently, yawning, as well as looking sleepy and sleepy-sounding, she lies back against the matching fluffy pillows, adjusting her little body and getting herself more comfortable. Subsequently to her grandfather, she holds one of her small slender arms out, clenching and unclenching her tiny hand in a 'gimme' gesture. "Good night mommy and daddy.” She mumbles forlornly and resignedly down the phone, as her vivid eyes start to flutter shut, she is soothingly on her way, drifting into the magical fairy-tale world of dreamland, where only good things happen, and her imaginary friends surround her, nearly on her way to snoring lightly. 

Whereas Joe just has to laugh, and smiles warmly down at her trying to sound like her mother at that age, it has absolutely made his heart, melt seeing her like this. Reminding a reflective rather moving Joe, of the nights when he would remain awake all night reading a book, and caring for his children when they were younger, who were having horrible nightmares, he swears to kill anyone who dares to lay a finger upon a single hair on her and her sisters heads. He leans down to pull the covers before he gives her a goodnight hug, putting his arms around her in an attempt to make her feel safer, and places a goodnight kiss on the top of his granddaughter's head, and does the same thing to her dolly. He desperately hopes the hug is helping; he wants to tell her and her sisters, that everything is going to be okay. To tell her that they are going to be on the beach later this morning, doing everything they have talked about for the past 3 days. He cautiously takes the phone from her little clutched hand, and watches at the innocent face before him as she drifts off further into sleep, with her princess fabric doll tightly in her arms, her little kitten that must have sneaked onto the bed when he wasn’t looking, is now curled up next to her. Furthermore, as he soothingly whispers some sweet nothings to his oldest granddaughters sleeping form, affectionately untangling some of her beautiful auburn kinky curls, and gently pushing them delicately with his index finger, out of her adorable babyish face, she stirs when he gets up trying to be careful, but she doesn't wake. He knows in his heart, that he desperately yearns for her to be dreaming of fairies, princes, princesses, and sugarplums, and not of terrible dreadful things that will haunt her in the night. He hopes pouring all his love over her, and keeping her safe and happy, so she'll sleep solidly now until five in the morning, when she and her sisters will wake, and their daily routine will begin again.

The girls are so lovable, innocent, and naïve to the world around them, they need to be worrying that they have enough toys packed, sleeping in their beds, being the three little excitable girls they are. Dreaming of making a wonderful chaotic and disordered breakfast for everybody, telling their parents what they have been doing for the past 3 days, as well as all the brilliant adventures they will be having with mommy and daddy. They shouldn't, be worrying and fearing on the subject of whether or not there are some creeps lurking outside of their bedroom windows, ready to get them, or why their grandpa seems to be very uneasy at the moment.

He puts the phone to his ear and hears Jackson’s voice radiate through the receiver, still watching the tired and excited little girl for a moment longer as she smoothly turns over with a little mumble, alongside gently pulling the soft pink duvet up to her neck, and her eyes close further as she falls deeper into slumber. While his eyes are also, subconsciously trained at the large window, he takes a deep cleansing breath as he stares at the almost empty, still, and silent street outside. "Bunny caught in headlights, 2 gray 5 series like daddy and 1 black, 2014s or 2015s, rentals, can't read plates, five men in total." He says proficiently calmly, as he quietly shuts the bedroom door slightly behind him, so he can still see what is going on and let the light inside in case of nightmares.

Quietly, but purposely with skills and proficiency only possessed through training, he walks lightly across the dark stained floorboards to the room next door. That room being Millie's, and has a better view of the cars outside. Her room is painted in purple and light blue, with an array of football, multicolored, and dinosaur string lights on the walls lighting the room, and giving it a light ambient glow. The main wall where the white wooden bed is, are a large collection of pictures of friends, family, and her own drawings in crayons, colored pencils, and magic markers, including a pretty picture of a giraffe, golden retriever, and chocolate Labrador looking like they're on guard. All framed in multicolored plastic fames in all kinds of shapes and sizes, decorated with stickers and all kinds of constructing materials. He smiles at his granddaughter’s artwork, before he quietly scans the rest of the bright and vibrant room, and upon sees no one else hiding in corners or the shadows, he comes fully into it.

In the meantime, Millie is dressed in her favorite black and yellow Batman pajamas, and is currently kneeling on her bed with one of her little hands on the glass, her large round green eyes looking through her plastic army green binoculars; she frowns slightly watching from the blackness of her bedroom on to the outside street. Her delicate little left hand is pressed against the warm glass, her tiny fingers spread out almost as if she were reaching for something.

Her thick, useful, battered and sticker decorated spy book is lying open on top of the colorful dinosaur covers, possessing all the information that others don't have, with a pencil on top of the pages. Ready for when she is making notes of his routines, and needing to write any changes that may occur just as she would be doing in the same circumstances. Along with her pile old tattered maps, one of her father's old cell phones that doesn’t work anymore, a black and yellow batman flashlight, utility belt filled with gadgets and weapons to use against the bad people. Along with blueprints of the street, she has drawn with crayons, her little Fisher Price digital camera that her mother and father brought her for her birthday, and lastly but just as important her green light saber. All the while Jasper her small and fluffy grey and black striped kitten, is fast asleep, oblivious to anything that is going on around him next to her on the her left side, and Rufus the Giraffe is sitting on her lap facing the window too. Along with her many, many action figures, that looks like she has strategically lined them up against the windowsill to help in the operation, and to look for her parents. Since she has been wondering, and feeling very confused, as to why two silver cars, and a black car that look like her daddy has, are parked right outside their house.

Now Millie is very observant when it comes to their street, as she likes to know the comings and goings of the people on it, sort of like a mini neighborhood watch. This is probably because she has inherited the genes from her father and grandpa, and she likes dressing up as a superhero/spy saving people.

Even though she is deaf, she was born without cochlea’s or auditory nerves, Profound Deafness is what the doctors called it, and she gets frustrated easily when she feels she is out of the conversation, and likes it more if people are signing in ASL as well mouthing the words as they do so, so she can lip-read. She is a very social child, independent, intelligent, dependable, enjoys making models, Lego models, and secret plans, funny, bubbly, adventurous, helpful, considerate, a little rambunctious prankster, and full of life, and is very sporty. So very easy to get along with, is inquisitive, observant, and fascinated in learning new things, and extremely interested in other people, a little too curious Lisa thinks, but then she has inherited some of her father's traits. A little nonstop chatterbox when she wants to be, who likes to tell stories, asks questions, or simply shares with you every thought that pops into her head or anything strange she sees, trying to teach people that being deaf is not synonymous with being stupid.

Something makes her pause, and she looks around the street silently with her eyes, her body not moving a muscle. Something is different, and with a disappointed grunt, she drops her binoculars onto her chest and reaches out with her left hand slowly over to grab her light saber, feeling a little agitated at being interrupted. Then, as the bed dips and she feels somebody is stroking her long dark brown straight shiny hair. In natural response, Millie angles her head, watching vigilantly as her grandfather sits on the bed beside her, whilst also looking out the window, and talking on the phone. She can tell by his facial expressions, that he is talking seriously, and that it is her daddy on the other side of the phone. Nevertheless, she is becoming extremely frustrated because she feels like she is out of the conversation, so instead she decides to tug on her grandfather's green knitted sweater, while her dark eyebrows are furrowed, and her full lips are pouting in annoyance looking exactly like her father.

Joe however looks down at his chocolate haired granddaughter, and knows that look on her elfin face, that is clear mixture of her mother, inheriting her eyes, with small bits of her father. It is her famous "I want to know" expression, which is the same look she gives Lisa, him, and Jackson when they are talking and she doesn't understand. Along with added furrowed brow, the same one her father uses in the same situation. However, ignoring the expression, and the penetrating gaze on his granddaughter's face, he smiles beamingly at her, kissing her slightly creased forehead, before he moves away somewhat, and continues with the conversation in hand, his brows now furrowed, causing the skin of his own forehead to crease considerably. The end of his index finger of his right hand running across his thin lips, as though he is in deep thought, and is unable to be broken out of it.

"Um, could you maybe make a 14oz Dunkin Doughnuts coffee? There's a Snicker bar in the back of the fridge, that you may not be able to see hidden behind the 2 cartons of apple juice. I know there are some more in the back of the pantry, hidden away from the girls view." His voice sounding steady, but underneath, Joe can detect that there is deep fatherly worry in his tone.

Immediately Joe stands up again, and makes his way to the opposite room still being careful not to wake the two sleeping children from their much-needed slumber, by treading on the creaking floorboards. Making his way quietly along the long hallway, he comes to a half open door, and has now entered Lisa and Jackson's large master bedroom, which is painted in olive green on one-wall where the Californian queen sized bed is, and neutral tones on the others, the big wooden bed that he nearly bashes into because of the dark. Going over to Jackson's side of the bed, he grumbles incoherently as he fumbles around the modern solid wood bedside table littered with objects such as picture frames with pictures of their wedding, the girls as babies, books, and Jackson’s reading glasses, before he finally finds the switch and turns on the small sliver modern lamp. Illuminating the whole room, and goes to the large window overlooking a small 2nd floor balcony and the large dark garden, to see flashes of lights reflecting from the distance. Certain, from his time in the army, that there are people watching from the rooftops of the houses behind, a most favorable spot for sniping it does provide good cover for the team, making him even more worried and uneasy than he already is. Mindful from the insightful conversations and training as to what to do in case of danger, Jackson and he have shared about Jackson’s line of work, Joe has no doubt in his mind that they are sniper rifles and the people behind them are specially trained. As these weapons are specifically used to ensure more accurate placement of bullets, and most likely fitted with a telescopic sight that is employed against human targets at longer ranges. Suddenly as he looks away from the immediate danger that is straight ahead, he finds Millie standing on her little tiptoes, her tiny fingers holding on tightly to the windowsill, while her big green tired eyes are trying to see what her grandfather can see through the small gaps of wooden blinds. Interested in what the shining is, if people are out there, and why her grandpa is looking out of the window too, because to Millie, people are a favorite theme of major interest especially with the overactive imagination of hers. "That coffee is not possible seems to be out of order, and may disrupt girls." He says in authoritative sounding voice, laced with direct urgency, whilst his left hand is ruffling his middle granddaughter’s dark hair, and he smiles thinly at her.

Instantaneously he swiftly lets go of his granddaughter’s dark hair, turning to face the door again, promptly but silently walks around the bed, this time being able to see and through to the hallway, on his way back into Millie's bedroom. The little dark haired girl following right behind, being just as quiet as her grandfather does, while her face expresses concern, excitement, and intrigue. When he gets back to Millie's bedroom, he sits back down on the soft cotton duvet, while little Millie climbs easily back up, and crawls back to the spot she was in before, to look back out of the window again, sitting next to him. Joe meanwhile is craning his thick neck to see the black BMW again, with a somewhat smile of relief. "But thanks for the Snicker, I could certainly use that, I was wondering what that was, there was no wrapper." He replies, as he turns to Millie, who is now tugging at his sweater again, he smiles down at her, shushing her with his lips. He knows she is becoming increasingly frustrated, because he isn't facing her, and she is unable to lip read, at that moment she resembles both her mother and father. However, the truth is, she wouldn't understand the code anyway, the thing is, she will be asking questions anyway and that's what he is dreading most, since she is the one to have seen the cars outside, while being the most inquisitive of his 3 grandchildren.

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Waiting a moment for Joe's words to absorb, Jackson lays his head back on the headrest in frustration, but not letting it show on his face, he clears his throat; while he lets, his eyes roam around the plane for a minute. Before, he answers Joe back, his voice is slightly cracked, and his composure is becoming less than perfect. "Well maybe, it's best to stick to regular, with 3 sugars and cream. There's an assortment of chocolate chip cookies, you can choose from too, in the pantry middle shelf to the left of the cereals."

Jackson looks discreetly Lisa's way, as her green shining eyes meet his, trying to glean from his face what is going on.

However, what she can see, from the haunted look around his translucent eyes, is that he isn't telling her everything and something is terribly wrong back at the house. She will ask him later when he is finished with the call to elaborate. She feels that he will answer any of her questions she will ask, for now, that was enough.

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"That might be my best choice; I'll try if the girls will let me." Joe answers with a small laugh, as he pulls the covers over on Millie's bed, and signals with a large happy smile, signing as well for her to get in.

An annoyed Millie glares at him for a moment while she crosses her arms, sticking out her tongue testing her grandpa’s limits, before seeing her grandfather is serious, she knows they're non-negotiable. She reluctantly crawls slowly back into the bed, and then blinks her big beautiful green eyes up innocently at Joe, while he is folding the brightly colored dinosaur duvet cover in tightly all around her. Reminding him of Lisa when she was a little girl, and wanted to stay up late with him, to watch the comedy marathon.

Once he knows the girls are finally in a deep slumber, phones Jackson's boss, and gets Millie's scooter and Emily's bike inside from the front garden, maybe tidying the toys that have somehow accumulated in the hallway into the toy basket. That usually when Lisa and Jackson are home, they have some ‘cleanup time together’ incorporated into their daily routines and even have an incentive chart, complete with gold stars and other bright colored ones, that if they get one all week, it equals this week a trip to the bowling alley. Finally, he will be sitting up, leaving the hallway lights on, watching the comedy marathon on silent or a low volume, and he will be listening armed with Lisa's field hockey stick and a gun. He will be waiting for the slightest noise; the slightest indication that something is amiss; that the people outside are out of their cars, and are on their way inside the house and he will spring into action. It is the only way he can work at the moment, and the only way he is able to protect his young grandchildren. He will be damned, before he lets some greedy and fraudulent politician or anybody evil, get men to come in and hurt one delicate hair on any of their tiny heads.

Suddenly Jackson's voice reverberates down the speaker, sounding like it is back to normal, while also sounding like he is smiling too. "Okay, we'll see you in the morning; get some rest, while they are sleeping okay." There's a short pause, before his voice comes back down the receiver. "We'll see you, and the three little monsters in the early hours, okay?"

Joe signs with both hands to Millie to lie down calmly and directly enough that she will obey him without any resistance, while he is speaking on the phone balanced on his right shoulder to Jackson. Before she does, Millie grabs for her baseball mitt from the little white wooden paneled bedside table, lying down in her dinosaur patterned bed covers with a huge huff that blows her fringe a little away from her bright eyes, and holding Rufus as tightly around his neck as much as she can with her left arm.

"Okay Jackson, but I'm sure you know what the response will be from the girls if they heard you. I'm not a monster daddy, I'm a fairy princess, and I'm a fairy secret agent superhero." When he answers what the girls will say in response, the tone sounding more of a high-pitched whine, than his usual deep gruff tone. This is while he grabs her thick-paged, black, sticker covered spy diary, and the many small toys she has gathered from the end of the bed, and sorting them into piles, before reaching underneath the white wooden bed, and putting them back into their rightful places, in her colorful plastic toy boxes under the bed.

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Jackson knows that in matters of fairytales or Disney, he is a bit of a reluctant expert, having three small daughters, over the years they have watched a ton of those kinds of movies with him. As he thinks about that, he smiles warmly, and wishes he could lean down to give them all a big hug and a goodnight kiss, Emily with her princess fabric doll, her kitten curled up next to her. He knows she is most certainly going to be dreaming of a magical land, where she is the princess on an adventure to wonderland. At the same time as Millie and her strange sleeping arrangement, with her giraffe, baseball mitt, kitten, and light saber by her side. Dreaming of spies, and secrets, as she attacks enemies with her weapons and save the day. While little Olivia is curled into a small ball, chewing on her bunnies ears, with her kitty, and dreaming of butterflies and cats. "I know, let them know mommy, and daddy will be there soon, and we are looking forward to their delicious breakfast when we get home.” He says softly and affectionately almost dreamlike down the phone, to which he hears Joe wearily gruff answer, and say a 'bye mommy and daddy, from Millie' before hearing a loud click. Leaving the unbearably deafening end call tone, he sits there for a second, rubbing his scruffy cheeks with his fingertips of his left hand, while he tries gathering his conflicting thoughts.

Before he sets the phone back on the receiver onto the hard plastic base with a loud click, trying his hardest not to slam the phone, and breaking the base into pieces. He turns to a concerned looking Lisa, and wishes she could have said goodbye to their daughters on the line, so she wouldn't feel so sad about him getting to, and it breaks Jackson's heart. This is not what he wants, and he doesn't want his little girls worrying about them, and knowing that bad people are outside. "Leese, you're not going to like this." He says softly leaning forward, and in a tone that will grabs hold of her.

Lisa watches him, her eyes not leaving his face, and all she can see is the sincerity in his eyes, as tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to remain defiant, sighing, at the same time as she starts sitting up straight, wondering just how they got into this mess. At least she had heard her father's and little Emily's voices. The only thing is does she really want to hear this? After all the things, that she has heard from him in the past few hours? Does she really have a choice? Lisa pulls her hands along her temples hard enough, painfully enough, to keep her tears at bay. She finally says with anger flaring inside her, that her voice is low, and full of unconcealed venom. "What is it you're going to tell me Jackson huh, that they’re not safe. I've already gathered that, because of the look on your face.” She can tell he is preparing himself, by the way he's trying to keep his composure with her, as though any minute he is about to explode into a murderous rage. As she lets hatred engulf her in the hope that she can suck every ounce of willpower out of it, an unexpected realization dawns on her. What she sees in its place, surprises her. Instead of the man that is threatening her father and daughters, she sees Emily's bright blue eyes, and Millie's freckles, just like their father's.

He takes a quick glance around the cabin, at the passenger seat, who seems to be sleeping, reading the in-flight magazine and hefty paperback novels they brought for the flight, or just staring ahead of them, looking utterly bored. Jackson narrows his piercing blue eyes to his right for a second; letting them show all intense rage and malevolence he is feeling, before turning his head back to his wife still staring at him, with a strange look in her eyes. He recognizes, that the more lost, vulnerable, and desperate she seems. It's likely that she will turn all the more stronger, dangerous, and unpredictable.

The thought of that and the situation makes Jackson takes swallows audibly hard, trying to get rid of the thick lump and painful tightening that has started to accumulate again. "Millie has seen the cars outside the house, and she's told Emily about it." He whispers, in a softer tone that sounds slightly strained, than his eyes are showing at this moment.

At that point, Lisa shakes her head and bites her lower lip, trying her hardest not to burst into a new stream of tears, instead she concentrates on shooting daggers at him with her eyes, and her fists clenched, as she hisses at him harshly. "Millie can see them, Jackson you know Millie is nosy when she wants to be. This means, she has probably written things in her spy diary, and is not sleeping like she is supposed to, and why Emily was wide awake and upset." Lisa's entire body is trembling with rage she is so angry right now, sending the emotions of fear and anger to shudder down her spine. She knows that since Millie enjoys gaining independence, secrets give her some control, deciding how much others need to know. However, she wishes she could discuss with her that this secret needs to be shared, because if someone is doing something inappropriate, or someone is going to get hurt so that mommy and daddy can help, and she won't be angry that she has spilled the beans.

Jackson softens his voice, his eyes earnest as he runs a tired arm though his hair and leans back slightly. Still close enough, to make himself heard without raising his voice. How does he answer her question? He replies carefully, hoping she can read the sincere apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry Leese, I didn't think they would be so obvious, and park right outside the house."

For a moment, Lisa doesn't reply just blinking her stinging eyes at him, and then takes a deep breath, shaking her head. She takes a moment to absorb the words before she answers him. "So let's get this straight, my dad is dealing with Emily and Millie, who are now not only excited about later this morning, but are also scared about the cars being parked outside their windows. While Millie is still wide-awake, looking out of her window at the three cars she thinks are strange. And my dad is not only left to try and to get them back to bed, but also worry about those cars." She says, trying to speak in her managerial voice, only her voice comes out more shaky and heavy with emotion than she wants it to. She Damns, her heartbeat that is thundering in her ears again. Worrying about her little girls, because she knows that children, as well as adults experience feelings of anxiousness, worry and fear when facing different situations, especially those involving a new experience like the one they are in now. When children suffer from a severe anxiety disorder their thinking, decision-making ability, perceptions of the environment, learning, and concentration gets affected, also their reactions to danger, is going to be quicker and much stronger now. That anxiety can cause rises in their blood pressure and heart rate and can cause nausea, vomiting, stomach pain, ulcers, diarrhoea, tingling, weakness, and shortness of breath. She is sure Emily and Millie already have the ulcers, and the sky high blood pressure, over worrying about their little sisters, and for Millie it is due to her keeping things to herself, which are now worsened by this situation. 

Jackson explains calmly, his voice soft, and even more quiet. While his blue eyes look exhausted and concerned. "Joe's going to call Hendon; it's not safe for them to go to the Gregory's. I just hope that he can get the team to change positions and can get nearer to the house without rousing suspicion." Now he speaks a little louder, worry dripping from his words. "Livie had another nightmare didn't she, only this time much worse than usual?"

Lisa swallows, hating how vulnerable she feels, she thinks again, about how screwed up this whole situation is. So instead, she fires at him, not able to yell because of creating unnecessary attention, but wishing she could. "Yes, and dad has been trying to get her back to sleep since you told me about the phone call from Brad."

When Jackson leans close, not only looking at her, but also looking into her, amazed by the sight of the women he is proud to call his wife. He knows Lisa, at the moment doesn't think the same about him, and is rightly expected. The way she is keeping herself together, even with all the stuff that, he has thrown on her all through the flight so far. She's looking at him with no fear, her customer service face well and truly placed on her beautiful face, dressing him as though he is one of her pigheaded customers, but he can see that she is looking into him as well. All he can do is stay astounded for a moment, he wishes her father was okay, sitting in their home reading three little excitable girls a bedtime story, and then getting them to go back to bed. She shouldn't be worrying about there being some creeps lurking outside of their front door, and people on the plane doing the same, while her husband is in the running for the Worst husband award.

In spite of this, slowly, Lisa's face twists into an expression of irritation, but at the same time one of deep and troubled sadness. "Jackson you have some explaining to do, because right now I am trying my hardest not to commit a violent act on you." She seethes quietly, working to keep her right clenched hand down.

He berates himself intensely, in a short moment of silence. Afterwards Jackson leans closer into his wife, and answers her in a soft whisper, no anger showing in his voice at all. "I'll, tell you everything Leese, in the lavatory. First, I need you to do your best heroine in distress act, and run off down there. Can you do that for me?"

For a heartbeat, Lisa stares up at him in defiance, a resolute look on her face and feels the tears prick beneath her eyelids, refusing to let Jackson see her cry again. "Yes, Jackson, I'm not stupid." She remarks, without the slightest bit of humour or irony in her tone.

Jackson sighs exaggeratedly, making a show for the agents watching, of taking offence by her attitude. "I'll give you a few minutes, then come and see what's happening." A short pause, he turns his head slightly away, as though waiting for someone to interrupt them. After that turns his head back to face Lisa again, and continues. "Then I'll tell you everything you need to know, about this fucked up situation." He clenches and unclenches his jaw at the thought, and his blue eyes are intense. He also can feel the growing rage that is flaring inside, as an aura surrounding him; it electrifies the air around them.

Lisa shakes her head, annoyed with herself, praying that she is successfully at showing her emotions with her face, as she is searching his face with her eyes; and sees the twitch of his eyebrow showing his frustration. Convinced she continues looking at him, her eyes intense and scornfully stares. Her voice is, commanding, only wavering with anger. "You'd better Jackson Rippner, otherwise there is going to be hell to pay."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first chapter; I hope you enjoyed it so far. Please review, and tell me if it’s crap or the characters are a little OOC or whatever you think, because I am definitely not sure myself. I also hope that it doesn’t sound like anybody else stories, and if it does I am very sorry I don’t mean it to.


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